Lyrics:

(Well we got heaps of lively numbers coming up on the last set)
(But right now I'd like to do one that's been)
(Probably one of the most requested songs)
(That I get around the pubs, and I've been dying to record this one)
(It needs no introduction)
When I was a young man, I carried a pack
I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915, my country said 'Son'
There's no time for roving, there's work to be done
And they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As the ship pulled away from the quay
And amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears
We set off for Gallipoli
How well I remember that terrible day
When our blood stained the sand and the water
And of how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk he was waiting, he'd primed himself well
Showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shells
And in five minutes flat, well he blew us all to hell
He nearly blew us right back to Australia
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs
Then we started all over again
So those that were left, just tried to survive
In a mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks, I kept myself alive
As the corpses around me piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
And when I awoke in my hospital bed, I saw what it had done
And I wished I was dead, and I knew there was worse things than dying
And I'll go no more Waltzing Matilda
All through the green bush far and free
'Cause to hunt and tent peg, a man needs both legs
No more Waltzing Matilda for me
They collected the crippled, the wounded, the maimed
Shipped us all back to Australia
The legless, the armless, the blind, and insane
The brave wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And I thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To mourn, and to greave, and to pity
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
Nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
Then turned all their faces away
And now every April, I sit on my porch
As I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reviving old dreams and past glories
But the old men march slowly, bones stiff and sore
Tired old men from a tired old war
And the young people ask, what are they marching for?
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
As the old men still answer the call
And year after year, more old men disappear
Soon none of them will march there at all