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WALTZING MATILDA Pogues
When I was a [D]young man, I [A]carried my pack.
And I lived the free [E]life, of a [A]rover.
From the [E]Murray's green [D]basin,
To the [A]dusty outback,
I waltzed my [E]matilda all [A]over.
Then in 19[E]15, my [D]country said [A]"son"
"It's t[E]ime to stop [D]rambling,"
"Cos there's [A]work to be done."
So they gave me a t[D]in hat,
And they gave me a [A]gun,
And they sent me [E]away to the w[A]ar.
And the band played W[D]altzing M[A]atilda,
As we sailed a[D]way from the [E]quay.
And am[D]idst all the cheers,
And the s[A]houts and the tears,
We sailed off for [E]Galipoli[A]
How well I [D]remember that [A]terrible day,
when the blood stained the [E]sand and the [A]water.
And h[E]ow in that [D]hell
that they [A]called Souvla Bay
We were butchered like [E]lambs at the [A]slaughter.
Johnny [E]Turkey was [D]ready, He'd [A]primed himself well.
He [E]showered us with [D]bullets,
And he [A]rained us with shells.
And in five minutes [D]flat,
he'd blown [A]us all to hell.
Nearly [E]blew us right back to [A]Australia.
And the band played [D]Waltzing [A]Matilda,
As we stopped to [D]bury our [E]slain.
And [D]we buried ours
and the [A]Turks buried theirs,
And it started all [E]over [A]again.
Now those who were [D]living, Did their [A]best to survive,
In that [E]mad world of guts, blood, and [A]fire.
And for [E]seven long [D]weeks,
I [A]kept myself alive,
As the [E]corpses around me piled [A]higher.
Then a [E]big Turkish [D]shell, Knocked me [A]arse over tit.
And [E]when I [D]awoke
in my ho[A]spital bed,
And saw what it had [D]done,
Christ I [A]wished I was dead.
Never [E]knew there were worse things than [A]dying.
And no more I'll go [D]Waltzing [A]Matilda,
To the green bushes [D]so far and [E]near.
For to [D]hang tent and pegs
A [A]man needs two legs.
No more Waltzing [E]Matilda for [A]me.
So they collected the [D]crippled, The [A]wounded and maimed,
And they sent us back [E]home to [A]Australia.
The [E]legless, the [D]armless,
the [A]blind and insane.
Those [E]proud wounded heroes of [A]Souvla
And [E]as our ship [D]pulled into [A]Circular Quay
I [E]looked at the [D]place
where my [A]legs used to be.
And thank Christ, there was [D]nobody
[A]waiting for me,
To [E]grieve and to mourn and to [A]pity.
And the band played [D]Waltzing [A]Matilda,
As they carried us [D]down the gang[E]way.
But [D]nobody cheered,
They [A]just stood and stared,
And they [E]turned their faces [A]away.
And now every [D]April, I [A]sit on my porch,
And I [E]watch the parades pass [A]before me.
I [E]see my old [D]comrades,
How [A]proudly they march.
Re[E]living the dreams of past [A]glory.
I [E]see the old [D]men, all [A]twisted and torn.
The [E]forgotten [D]heroes
of a [A]forgotten war.
And the young people [D]ask me,
What are [A]they marching for?
And [E]I ask my self the same [A]question.
And the band plays [D]Waltzing [A]Matilda,
And the old men still [D]answer the [E]call.
But [D]year after year,
Their [A]numbers get fewer,
Someday no-one will [E]march there [A]at all.
[A]Waltzing Matilda, [D]Waltzing Matilda
[A]Who'll come a waltzing matilda with[E] me?
Outro: A A E A
Turtyl--emyers31@maine.maine.edu "I can resist anyhting but temptation!"
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Life without Love is like a tree without blossoms and fruit. And love
without Beauty is like flowers without scent and fruit without seeds...
Life, Love, and Beauty are three persons in one, who cannot be seperated
or changed.
-Kahlil Gibran
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