http://www.atheturk.comIn memoriam of thoses, anzacs, turks, frenchs who lost their lives in Gallipoli. The song "Waltzing Mathilda" is performed by the Pogues.When I was a young man I carried my packAnd I lived the free life of a roverFrom the Murrays green basin to the dusty outbackI waltzed my Matilda all overThen in nineteen fifteen my country said SonIt's time to stop rambling 'cause there's work to be doneSo they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gunAnd they sent me away to the warAnd the band played Waltzing MatildaAs we sailed away from the quayAnd amidst all the tears and the shouts and the cheersWe sailed off to Gallipoli How well I remember that terrible dayHow the blood stained the sand and the waterAnd how in that hell that they called Suvla BayWe were butchered like lambs at the slaughterJohnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself wellHe chased us with bullets, he rained us with shellsAnd in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hellNearly blew us right back to AustraliaBut the band played Waltzing MatildaAs we stopped to bury our slainWe buried ours and the Turks buried theirsThen we started all over again Now those that were left, well we tried to surviveIn a mad world of blood, death and fireAnd for ten weary weeks I kept myself aliveBut around me the corpses piled higherThen a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over titAnd when I woke up in my hospital bedAnd saw what it had done, I wished I was deadNever knew there were worse things than dyingFor no more I'll go waltzing MatildaAll around the green bush far and nearFor to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legsNo more waltzing Matilda for me So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimedAnd they shipped us back home to AustraliaThe armless, the legless, the blind, the insaneThose proud wounded heroes of SuvlaAnd as our ship pulled into Circular QuayI looked at the place where my legs used to beAnd thank Christ there was nobody waiting for meTo grieve and to mourn and to pityAnd the band played Waltzing MatildaAs they carried us down the gangwayBut nobody cheered, they just stood and staredThen turned all their faces away And now every April I sit on my porchAnd I watch the parade pass before meAnd I watch my old comrades, how proudly they marchReliving old dreams of past gloryAnd the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and soreThe forgotten heroes from a forgotten warAnd the young people ask, "What are they marching for?"And I ask myself the same questionAnd the band plays Waltzing MatildaAnd the old men answer to the callBut year after year their numbers get fewerSome day no one will march there at all Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing MatildaWho'll come a waltzing Matilda with meAnd their ghosts may be heard as you pass the BillabongWho'll come-a-waltzing Matilda with me?

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