And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda


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 tears, 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 waiting, he'd primed himself well. 
He shower'd us with bullets,
And he rained us with shell. 
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all 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, when I woke up in my hospital bed,
And saw what it had done, well 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 free
To hump 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 as our 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 parades pass before me.

And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march, reviving old dreams of past glories
And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore. 
The tired old heroes from 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, more old men disappear. 
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?

Eric Bogle

With God On Our Side

Oh, my name, it means nothin', my age it means less
The country I come from is called the Midwest
I was taught and brought up there, the laws to abide
And the land that I live in has God on its side

Oh, the history books tell it, they tell it so well
The cavalries charged, the Indians fell
The cavalries charged, the Indians died
Oh, the country was young with God on its side

Oh, the Spanish-American war had its day
And the civil war too was soon laid away
And the names of the heroes I was made to memorize
With guns in their hands and God on their side

Oh, the first world war, boys it closed out its fate
The reason for fighting I never got straight
But I learned to accept it, accept it with pride
For you don't count the dead when God's on your side

When the second world war came to an end
We forgave the Germans and then we were friends
Though they murdered six million, in the ovens they fried
The Germans now too have God on their side

But now we've got weapons of the chemical dust
If fire them we're forced to, then fire them we must
One push of the button and a shot the world wide
And you never ask questions when God's on your side

So now as I'm leavin', I'm weary as hell
The confusion I'm feelin', ain't no tongue can tell
The words fill my head and fall to the floor
Oh, if God's on our side, He'll stop the next war.

J Collins

Men Behind The Guns

Let's drink a toast to the admiral,
And here's to the captain bold,
And glory more for the commodore,
When the deeds of might are told.

They stand to the deck with the battle's wreck,
When the great shells roar and pound,
And never they fear when the foe is near
To lay their orders down--

But off with your hats and three times three
for every sailor's son,
for the men below who fight the foe,
the men behind the guns:
oh, the men behind the guns.

Their hearts a-pounding heavy when
They swing to port once more --
With never enough of the greenback stuff,
They start for the leave ashore.

And you'd think perhaps the blue-blouse chaps
Had better clothes to wear,
For the uniforms of officers
Could hardly be compared:

Warriors bold with straps of gold
that dazzle like the sun
outshine the common sailor boys,
the lads who serve the guns:
oh, the men behind the guns.

Say not a word till the shot is heard
That tells the fight is on,
And the angry sound of another round
That says they must be gone

Over the deep and the deadly sweep,
The fire and the bursting shell,
Where the very air is a mad despair,
The throes of a living hell.

But down and deep in a mighty ship
unseen by the midday sun
you'll find the boys who make the noise,
the lads who serve the guns:
oh, the men behind the guns.

And well they know the cyclone blow
Loose from the cannon's steel.
The know the hull of the enemy ship
Will quiver with the (peal?).

And the decks will rock with the lightning shock
And shake with the great recoil
While the sea grows red with the blood of the dead
And swallows up her spoil.

But not until the final ship
has made her final run
can we give their rest to the very best:
to the lads who serve the guns --
oh, the men behind the guns.

Let's drink a toast to the admiral,
And here's to the captain bold,
And glory more for the commodore,
When the deeds of might are told.

They stand to the deck with the battle's wreck,
When the great shells roar and pound,
And never they fear when the foe is near
To lay their orders down--

But off with your hats and three times three
for every sailor's son,
for the men below who fight the foe,
the men behind the guns:
oh, the man behind the gun.

Phil Ochs

The Ballad Of The Carpenter

Jesus was a working man
And a hero you will hear
Born in the town of bethlehem
At the turning of the year
At the turning of the year

When jesus was a little lad
Streets rang with his name
For he argued with the older men
And put them all to shame
He put them all to shame

He became a wandering journeyman
And he traveled far and wide
And he noticed how wealth and poverty
Live always side by side
Live always side by side

So he said "come you working men
Farmers and weavers too
If you would only stand as one
This world belongs to you
This world belongs to you"

When the rich men heard what the carpenter had done
To the roman troops they ran
Saying put this rebel jesus down
He's a menace to God and man
He's a menace to God and man

The commander of the occupying troops
Just laughed and then he said
"there's a cross to spare on calvaries hill
By the weekend he'll be dead
By the weekend he'll be dead"

Now jesus walked among the poor
For the poor were his own kind
And they'd never let them get near enough
To take him from behind
To take him from behind

So they hired one of the traders trade
And an informer was he
And he sold his brother to the butchers men
For a fistful of silver money
For a fistful of silver money

And jesus sat in the prison cell
And they beat him and offered him bribes
To desert the cause of his fellow man
And work for the rich men's tribe,
To work for the rich men's tribe

And the sweat stood out on jesus' brow
And the blood was in his eye
When they nailed his body to the roman cross
And they laughed as they watched him die
They laughed as they watched him die

Two thousand years have passed and gone
Many a hero too
But the dream of this poor carpenter
Remains in the hands of you
Remains in the hands of you.

Ewan MacColl

Spirit Is The Journey

 
Ploughed the moon reached an island
Balanced on the edge of the sky
But something always stayed the same
Deep down inside
No matter where I've been the places don't count
Summer in a mountain town
No matter where I've been the places don't count
And I feel let down
'Cause nobody told me
Spirit is the journey
Body is the bus
I am the driver
From dust to dust
Spirit is a story
Body is a book
I am the writer
Together we flow
We hold on, and when the story ends
We hold on, until it begins again
We hold on, we hold on...
I never knew I had one
Till I saw yours shine
Spilling from your laughter
Sparkling in your eyes
Sharing my confusion, sharing my surprise
At finding part of me in you, alive
'Cause nobody told me
Spirit is the journey
Body is the bus
I am the driver
From dust to dust
Trying to be near you
Searching for a way
Listening to your life song
Before it fades away
We hold on, and when the story ends
We hold on, we hold on.
Spirit is the journey
Body is the bus
I am the driver from dust to dust
Now I'm falling, falling away
I hear you calling, calling my name
Spirit move on, move on
Pass my eyes on, on to the next one
I will be long gone, long gone
Across the distance, this divide
I will be with you forever
Till you reach the other side
So hold on, sing this life song
Sing...

Jaluka

Digging For Some Words

Wanderers and nomads have gone to see their chieftains
Will this be the end of the rain and the birds?
Who can send an emissary to speak to the seasons?
For the ravens and the crows already soak up the skies...
I'm digging for some words beneath the stones in Zimbabwe
I'm searching for a drum song in the jungles of Zaire
I'm groping for the blood-moon in the mountains of Malawi
Looking for the Lion of Ethiopia...

The setting dusk is darkened by the bark of the baboon
The frogs and the owls no longer call to the moon
The warlords have gathered, blue smoke hiss from teeth of chrome
And the baobab lies trembling in the boiling blood-loam
The fireplace is broken and the grinding stone too
Its million pieces flung across the plains of Africa

Each dusty fragment a seed from which grows
The memory of a debt that only you and I will know
Seven seasoned soldiers have been summoned from Saigon
A craven walkie talkie puts their bloodshot armor on
Some drink beer milk, some drink kinky-kola
Sheep dogs live in Outeniqua
Gun dogs in Angola

Flames lick the corners of each hungry horseman's smile
They have locusts in their scabbards and deserts in their eyes
Passing through the air they leave a sea of fetid rumors
As they ride across the skyline on a secret trail of lies
I found some words beneath a stone in Zimbabwe
I heard a distant drum song in the jungles of Zaire
The blood-moon spoke of war in the mountains of Malawi
But I never found the Lion of Ethiopia.

Jaluka

Bullets For Bafazane

Shadow men from the outlands come to town
Looking for Bafazane
They want to gun him down -- oh no
They say he thunders too loud and his people are proud
They'll never give in while he's still around
And it's the sky above that he loves.

Chorus:
They've got bullets for Bafazane -- They want to gun him down
They've got bullets for Bafazane -- Now they're searching the town
They've got bullets for Bafazane -- And the word's got around
They've got bullets for Bafazane
 
Eyes wide open in the backroom,
Finger on the trigger
Listening for any sound that will
Betray the silent deadly figure
He's got iron in his soul,
He's got a smile in his eyes
He makes dancing shoes from old car tyres
And it's the sky up above that he loves

It's the sky up above that he loves
'Cause for him he's alive and that's enough


Juluka

Christmas in the trenches


Oh my name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school
From Belgium and to Flanders, Germany to here
I fought for King and country I love dear.

Twas Christmas in the trenches and the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France where still no Christmas songs were sung
Our families back in England were toasting us that day
There brave and glorious lads so far away.

I was lying with my mess mates on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound
Says I now listen up me boys, each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear.

He's singing bloody well you know, my partner says to me
Soon one by one each German voice joined in in harmony
The cannons rested silent and the gas cloud rolled no more
As Christmas brought us respite from the war.

As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen struck up some lads from Kent
The next thing sang was Stille Nach tis Silent Night says I
And in two tongues one song filled up that sky

There's someone coming towards us now the front line sentry said
All sights were fixed on one lone figure trudging from their side
His truce flag like a Christmas Star shone on the plane so bright
As he bravely trudged unarmed into the night.

Then one by one on either side, walked in to No Mans Land
With neither gun nor bayonet, we met there hand to hand
We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well
And in a flare lit football game we gave them hell.

We traded chocolates, cigarettes and photographs from home
These sons and father far away from families of their own
Ton Sanders played the squeeze box and they had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of men.

Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more
With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wonderous night
Whose family have I fixed within my sights.

Twas Christmas in the trenches and the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were warmed, the songs of peace were sung
For the walls they'd kept between us to exact the work of war
had been crumbled and were gone forever more.

Oh my name is Francis Tolliver, from Liverpool I dwell
Each Christmas comes since World War I have learned its lesson well
For the one who calls the shots won't be among the dead and lame
And on each end of the rifle we're the same.

John McDermott.

Soldier's of The Queen

    Britons once did loyally declaim
    About the way we ruled the waves.
    Every Briton's song was just the same
    When singing of her soldier-braves.
    All the world had heard it--
    Wondered why we sang,

    And some have learned the reason why--
    But we're not forgetting it,
    And we're not letting it
    Fade away and gradually die,
    Fade away and gradually die.
    So when we say that England's master
    Remember who has made her so

    It's the soldiers of The Queen, my lads
    Who've been, my lads, who've seen, my lads
    In the fight for England's glory lads
    When we've had to show them what we mean:
    And when we say we've always won
    And when they ask us how it's done
    We'll proudly point to every one
    Of England's soldiers of The Queen. 

 Lazarus

Lazarus come forth  
No need to be afraid 
Press or pundits, 
Lords or Kings 
Yes you can be remade  
Many ways to resurrect you  
History is our best sport  
You won't recognize the man you were 
Ah Lazarus come forth

 

Lazarus come forth  
We have the PR men  
Brighten up your tarnished image, make you clean again 
You won't recognize yourself  
What they despise now they'll now adore  
All this for just one fee  
Ah Lazarus come forth

 

Lazarus the price of this rewrite of your misdeeds Is that your body dies  
We just deal with commentaries

 

Lazarus come forth  
We deal in contradictions  
Symbols we mistake for real  
Private truth and public fiction  
Ways to weave a storyline round you in a martyrs coat 
Paint you brighter than you ever were  
Ah Lazarus come forth

 

 

Lazarus come forth It's part of you we need  
To justify within ourselves the politics of greed 
Knowing that the likes of you could die and still be more  
May our sins be cleansed just as yours were  
Ah Lazarus come forth  
Lazarus come forth  
Lazarus come forth

James Keelaghan

Cold Missouri Waters

My name is Dodge, but then you know that 
It's written on the chart there at the foot end of the bed 
They think I'm blind, I can't read it 
I've read it every word, and every word it says is death 
So, Confession - is that the reason that you came 
Get it off my chest before I check out of the game 
Since you mention it, well there's thirteen things I'll name 
Thirteen crosses high above the cold Missouri waters

August 'Forty-Nine, north Montana 
The hottest day on record, the forest tinder dry 
Lightning strikes in the mountains I was crew chief at the jump base, 
I prepared the boys to fly Pick the drop zone, C-47 comes in low 
Feel the tap upon your leg that tells you go 
See the circle of the fire down below 
Fifteen of us dropped above the cold Missouri waters

Gauged the fire, I'd seen bigger 
So I ordered them to sidehill and we'd fight it from below 
We'd have our backs to the river 
We'd have it licked by morning even if we took it slow 
But the fire crowned, jumped the valley just ahead 
There was no way down, headed for the ridge instead 
Too big to fight it, we'd have to fight that slope instead 
Flames one step behind above the cold Missouri waters

Sky had turned red, smoke was boiling 
Two hundred yards to safety, death was fifty yards behind 
I don't know why I just thought it 
I struck a match to waist high grass running out of time 
Tried to tell them, 
Step into this fire I set 
We can't make it, this is the only chance you'll get 
But they cursed me, ran for the rocks above instead 
I lay face down and prayed above the cold Missouri waters

And when I rose, like the phoenix 
In that world reduced to ashes there were none but two survived 
I stayed that night and one day after 
Carried bodies to the river, wonder how 
I stayed alive 
Thirteen stations of the cross to mark to their fall I've had my say, 
I'll confess to nothing more I'll join them now, because they left me long before 
Thirteen crosses high above the cold Missouri waters 
Thirteen crosses high above the cold Missouri shore.

James Keelaghan

Fires of Calais

The fishing boats roll out across the dark green Channel water 
As they gather speed for Flanders they cut their nets away 
It's not herring they'll be pulling from the waters on this morning 
They'll reap a bitter harvest from the Fires of Calais

Twenty leagues from France I saw the amber soaked horizon 
In our lee, the Cliffs of Dover fall beneath the Channel waves 
Where waters used to sing a song to sooth the hearts of fishers 
Now, we hear the rolling thunder from the Fires of Calais

As we pull in tight to shore, this armada bent on rescue 
We curse the men behind the desks who sell our lives this way 
Never signed on board to save them from this bloody lack of planning 
That strands these fine young men beneath the Fires of Calais

On the beach, allied confusion will they stand or are they running 
If it's run, where will they go to between the sea and the melee? 
On the flanks, the troop's advancing and with heavy guns, they're firing 
And not a mother's son could save them from the Fires of Calais

In scattered groups along the shore some look towards a safer harbor 
Some fix their eyes upon the flames, that turn the night to day 
Some yet standing, bold and ready, to stoutly guard the rear from "Jerry" 
They'll need no flares to see 'em 'neath the Fires of Calais

I've fished these channel waters since was man enough face them 
For the herring and the flounder I have often hauled away 
But a catch like this I've never had in forty years of sailing 
Saving "Tommies" as they flounder 'neath the Fires of Calais

The fishing boats roll out across the dark green Channel water 
As the gather speed for Flanders they cut their nets away 
It's not herring they'll be pulling from the waters on this morning 
They'll reap the bitter harvest from the Fires of Calais

Farmer's Song

Dusty old farmer out working your fields
Hanging down over your tractor wheels
The sun beatin' down turns the red pain to orange
And rusty old patches of steel
There's no farmer songs on that car radio
Just cowboys, truck drivers and pain
Well this is my way to say thanks for the meal
And I hope there's no shortage of rain

Straw hats and old dirty hankies
Mopin' a face like a shoe
Thanks for the meal here's a song that is real
From a kid from the city to you

The combines gang up, take most of the bread
Things just ain't like they used to be
Though your kids are out after the American dream
And they're workin in big factories
Now If I come on by, when you're out in the sun
Can I wave at you just like a friend
These days when everyone's taking so much
There's somebody giving back in

Straw hats and old dirty hankies
Mopin' a face like a shoe
Thanks for the meal here's a song that is real
From a kid from the city to you.

Murry Mclaughan

 Abraham

I had a dream the other night when all the world was still
That I walked out with Abraham below a fortess on a hill
We looked across the Saint Charles River to the heights that bear his Name
And talked of things that had transpired since the last time that he came
Says I on these fields grazed your cattle raised on these your kith and kin
And on this field was fiery battle Montcalm to lose and Wolfe to win
Says he but they both died of wounds infliced by the cannonade
These wounds it seems were never healed, they fester to this day
 
Abraham
When will this fighting end
When will we learn to recognize
Who is foe and who is friend
 
Abraham
This field that bears your name
For one a field of victory
For one a field of shame
What of your children Abraham dispersed from this your plain
The continent they conquered though they did it in another's name
The land they won but for their strife the profits went astray
The money never crossed their palms or let them have their say
 
Abraham
Are we sometimes bound by pride
Too mindful of our hopes and dreams to let the anger slide
Abraham
 
Abraham
When will this fighting end
When will we learn to recognize
Who is foe and who is friend
 
Abraham
This field that bears your name
For one a field of victory
For one a field of shame

What of the future Abraham will we achieve some peace
From these solitudes we wander in will there be a release
Will my children learn to find a way to bridge the distance I have not
To learn the scars of history are sometimes best forgotten
And I had a dream the other night when all the world was still
That I walked out with Abraham that Abraham was living still
And in the dream we parted, as families oftimes will
Our questions left unanswered though not through lack of will
 
Abraham
The questions linger on
There is no hope in all this strife
There is no right or wrong
 
Abraham
This field that bears your name
For one a field of victory
For one a field of shame
 
Abraham

Kiri's Piano

Of all of Kiri Ito's joys, the thing she loved the best
Was to play her prized piano when the sun had gone to rest
I used to hear the notes drift down along the silent water
As Kiri played the notes and scales for her dear sons and daughters
Now me I played piano though not as good as Kiri
She went in for that long haired stuff but my she played it pretty

The old piano had a tone would set my heart to aching
It always sounded sweetest though when it was Kiri playing
In December when the seventh fleet was turned to smoke and ashes
The order came to confiscate their fishing boats and caches
And Kiri's husband forced to go and work in labour camps

And Kiri left alone to fend and hold the fort as best she can
But the music did not drift as often from up the cove at Kiri's house
And when it did it sounded haunted played with worry played with doubt
For Kiri knew that soon she too would be compelled to leave
And the old upright would stay behind and Kiri she would grieve
I loaded Kiri on the bus with stoic internees

The crime that they were guilty of was that they were not like me
And if I was ashamed I didn't know it at the time
They were flotsam on the wave of war they were no friends of mine
I went up to Kiri's house to tag all their belongings
And set them out for auctioneers who'd claim them in the morning
One piece that I thought I'd keep and hold back for myself
Was that haunting ivory upright that Kiri played so well

But Kiri had not left it there for me to take as plunder
She'd rolled it down onto the dock and on into the harbor
That old upright in strangers' hands was a thought she couldn't bear
So she consigned it to the sea to settle the affair

So many years have come and gone since Kiri's relocation
I look back now upon that time with shame and resignation
For Kiri knew what I did not that if we must be free
Then sometimes we must sacrifice to gain our dignity
Yes Kiri knew what I did not that if we must be free
Then sometimes we must sacrifice to gain our dignity.

James Keelaghan