now when i was a young man i carried me pack and i lived the free life of a rover from the murray s green basin to the dusty outback well i waltzed my matilda all over then in 1915 my country said son it s time you stopped rambling there s work to be done so they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun and they marched 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 cheers we sailed off for gallipoli and how well i remember that terrible day how 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 ready he d primed himself well he rained us with bullets and he showered us with shell and in five minutes flat we were all blown to hell nearly blew us right back to australia but the band played waltzing matilda when we stopped to bury our slain we buried ours and the turks buried theirs then we started all over again and those that were left well we tried to survive in that mad world of blood death and fire and for ten weary weeks i kept myself alive though around me the corpses piled higher then a big turkish shell knocked me arse over head and when i woke up in my hospital bed and saw what it had done and i wished i was dead never knew there was worse things than dyin for i ll go no more waltzing matilda all around the green bush far and near to hang tent and pegs a man needs both legs no more waltzing matilda for me so they gathered the crippled the wounded the maimed and they shipped us back home to australia the legless the armless the blind the insane those proud wounded heroes of suvla and when the ship pulled into circular quay i looked at the place where me legs used to be and thanked christ there was nobody waiting for me to grieve to mourn and to pity but the band played waltzing matilda as they carried us down the gangway but nobody cheered they just stood and stared then they turned all their faces away and so now every april i sit on me porch and i watch the parade pass before me and i see my old comrades how proudly they march renewing their dreams of past glory and the old men march slowly old bones stiff and sore the weary heroes of a forgotten war and the young people ask what are they marching for and i ask myself the same question  but the band plays waltzing matilda and the old men still answer the call but as year follows year the numbers get fewer someday no one will march there at all waltzing matilda waltzing matilda who ll come a waltzing matilda with me and their ghosts may be heard as they march by that billabong who ll come a waltzing matilda with me 