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The Band Played Waltzing Matilda by The Pogues





     The Band Played Waltzing Matilda






Intro: A A A
             D            A
When I was a young man, I carried my pack.
                     E          A
And I lived the free life, of a rover.
                         E
>From the Murray's green basin,
       D     A
To the dusty outback,
             E           A
I waltzed my matilda all over.
        E        D            A
Then in 1915, my country said "son"
       E           
"It's time to stop rambling,"
             D	        A
"Cos there's work to be done."
                  D
So they gave me a tin hat,
         A        
And they gave me a gun,
                 E            A
And they sent me away to the war.


                    D        A
And the band played Waltzing Matilda,
             D             E
As we sailed away from the quay.
    D
And amidst all the tears,
         A
And the shouts and the cheers,
                  E      A
We sailed off for Galipoli


           D             A
How well I remember that terrible day,
                           E            A
when the blood stained the sand and the water.
                E            
And how in that hell
          D		A
that they called Souvla Bay
                       E            A
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
       E                     	D	       A
Johnny Turk, he was ready, He'd primed himself well.
   E                
He showered us with bullets,
       D	      A
And he rained us with shells.
                    D
And in five minutes flat,
           A
he'd blown us all to hell.
                     E       A
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

                    D        A
And the band played Waltzing Matilda,
                          E
As we stopped to bury our slain.
    D
And we buried ours
        A
and the Turks buried theirs,
                   E    A
And it started all over again.

                   D                 A
Now those who were living, Did their best to survive,
                     E                A
In that mad world of guts, blood, and fire.
                   E          
And for seven long weeks,
  D	      A
I kept myself alive,
                 E             A
As the corpses around me piled higher.
       E                             D         A
Then a big Turkish shell, Knocked me arse over tit.
    E      
And when I awoke
        D      A
in my hospital bed,
                    D
And saw what it had done,
         A
Christ I wished I was dead.
                      E                 A
Never knew there were worse things than dying.

                    D        A
And no more I'll go Waltzing Matilda,
                               E
To the green bushes so far and near.
       D
For to hang tent and pegs
  A
A man needs two legs.
                    E        A
No more Waltzing Matilda for me.

                      D             A
So they collected the crippled, The wounded and maimed,
                         E       A
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
                 E
The legless, the armless,
    D		A
the blind and insane.
                    E         A
Those proud wounded heroes of Souvla
    E                       D	     A
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
  E             
I looked at the place
          D	      A
where my legs used to be.
                            D
And thank Christ, there was nobody
A
waiting for me,
                 E            A
To grieve and to mourn and to pity.

                    D        A
And the band played Waltzing Matilda,
                                E
As they carried us down the gangway.
    D
But nobody cheered,
     A
They just stood and stared,
                      E     A
And they turned their faces away.

              D        A
And now every April, I sit on my porch,
                E            A
And I watch the parades pass before me.
             E          
I see my old comrades,
    D	         A
How proudly they march.
             E              A
Reliving the dreams of past glory.
  E                     D          A
I see the old men, all twisted and torn.
    E         
The forgotten heroes
     D         A
of a forgotten war.
                     D
And the young people ask me,
         A
What are they marching for?
               E           A
And I ask my self the same question.

                   D        A
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda,
                                 E
And the old men still answer the call.
    D
But year after year,
      A
Their numbers get fewer,
                    E              A
Someday no-one will march there at all.

A                 D
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
A                                   E
Who'll come a waltzing matilda with me?

Outro:  A A E A	









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