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Paroles et musique :Folklore Australien
Capo II
Tonalité :
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When I was a y  oung man I c  arried my pack
And I l  ived the free l  ife of a r  over
From the M  urrays green b  asin to the d  usty outb  ack
I w  altzed my Mat  ilda all   over
Then in n  ineteen fifteen my co  untry said:   "Son,
It's t  ime to stop rambling cos there's w  ork to be d  one"
So they g  ave me a t  in hat and they g  ave me a gun
And they s  ent me a  way to the   war
And the b  and played W  altzing Mat  ilda
As   we sailed aw  ay from the qu  ay
And am  idst all the tears and the sh  outs and the cheers
We s  ailed off to G  allipol  i
H  ow well I rem  ember that t  errible day
When the bl  ood stained the s  and and the w  ater
And w  hen in that t  own that they c  alled Suvla B  ay
We were b  utchered like l  ambs at the sl  aughter
Johnny T  urk he was ready, he pri  med himself w  ell
He chase  d us with bullets, he ra  ined us with sh  ells
And in f  ive minutes fl  at he'd bl  own us all to hell
Ne  arly blew us right b  ack to Austr  alia
And the b  and played W  altzing Mat  ilda
As we st  opped to b  ury our sl  ain
And we b  uried ours and the T  urks buried theirs
Then we st  arted all   over ag  ain
Now th  ose that were l  iving did their b  est to survive
In a m  ad world of bl  ood, death and f  ire,
And, for s  even long we  eks, I k  ept myself al  ive
But the c  orpses aro  und me piled h  igher
Then a b  ig Turkish shell knocked me a  rse over t  it
And wh  en I awoke in my h  ospital b  ed
I saw wha  t it had do  ne. Christ ! I w  ished I was dead
Never k  new there were w  orse things than dy  ing
For I'l  l go no more w  altzing Mat  ilda
All around the gr  een bush f  ar and n  ear
For to h  ump tent and pegs, a m  an needs both legs
No more W  altzing Mat  ilda for m  e
So they colle  cted the cr  ipples, the woun  ded, the maimed,
And they sh  ipped us back h  ome to Austr  alia
The l  egless, the a  rmless, the bl  ind, the ins  ane,
Those pr  oud wounded h  eroes of Suv  la
And a  s our ship pulled into C  ircular B  ay
I lo  oked at the place my l  egs used to   be
And thank Ch  rist there was   no one w  aiting for me
To gr  ieve and to mo  urn and to p  ity
And the b  and played W  altzing Mat  ilda
As they c  arried us d  own the gangw  ay
But n  obody cheered, they just st  ood and stared
Then they tu  rned all their f  aces aw  ay
And n  ow every A  pril I s  it on my porch
And I w  atch the par  ade pass bef  ore me
I s  ee my old c  omrades, how p  roudly they m  arch,
Renew  ing old dr  eams of past gl  ory
I s  ee the old men march slowly, all bent, s  tiff and s  ore
The f  orgotten heroes from a f  orgotten w  ar
And the yo  ung people as  k: "what are the  y marching for ?"
And I   ask mys  elf the same qu  estion
And the b  and played W  altzing Mat  ilda
And the o  ld men still a  nswer to the c  all
But y  ear after year their n  umber gets fewer
Some day no   one will m  arch there at   all
W  altzing Matilda, W  altzing Matilda
Wh  o'll come a-waltzing Matilda with m  e


[anonyme], version 1.0


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Version : 1.0
Dernière modification : 2004-09-06
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