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fluffymarkWhen you see this, post two anti-war songs...
This one forever haunts me every time I hear it. The imagery is harrowing and extremely poignant.
THE BAND PLAYED WALTZING MATILDA
Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the 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 stop ramblin’, 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 call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin’, he primed himself well;
He showered 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,
Well, 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 me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.
For I’ll go no more “Waltzing Matilda,”
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents 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 armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed 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 my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They’re tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask “What are they marching for?”
And I ask meself 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 the billabong,
Who’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
The following I will forever associate with the Iraq war. The day Baghdad fell, I had this song playing constantly on repeat in the background as I watched them on TV as they were “tearing the statues to the ground”. The rest is almost prophetic, but I’d say more like inevitable.
LURHSTAAP (NEW MODEL ARMY)
One swallow never made a spring
You can buy a crown - it doesn’t make you king
Beware the trinkets that we bring
When the visionary dreams set hard and grey as flesh made into stone
You tore the statues to the ground crying - let my people go
And now they’re gone, all is gone
But these changing winds can turn cold and hostile
The freedom passion and the two faced call
They dance together upon the wall
With nothing left to break the fall
Now twenty-five miles north in the great dark woods
The college buildings stand
And the ghosts of hope walk silent halls at the death of the Promised Land
All is gone, all is gone
But these changing winds can turn cold and hostile
And in the shadows of the crowded square, a thousand paper deals go down
And hungry sharks from everywhere smell the blood and head for town
Innocence starts to peel away - How money changes everything
The past it eats the future up and this blind desire eats everything
Now the rats they leave one stricken ship for another sailing past
Your world was going nowhere slow while ours goes nowhere fast
And now it’s gone, all is gone
This one forever haunts me every time I hear it. The imagery is harrowing and extremely poignant.
THE BAND PLAYED WALTZING MATILDA
Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the 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 stop ramblin’, 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 call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin’, he primed himself well;
He showered 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,
Well, 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 me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.
For I’ll go no more “Waltzing Matilda,”
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents 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 armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed 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 my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They’re tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask “What are they marching for?”
And I ask meself 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 the billabong,
Who’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
The following I will forever associate with the Iraq war. The day Baghdad fell, I had this song playing constantly on repeat in the background as I watched them on TV as they were “tearing the statues to the ground”. The rest is almost prophetic, but I’d say more like inevitable.
LURHSTAAP (NEW MODEL ARMY)
One swallow never made a spring
You can buy a crown - it doesn’t make you king
Beware the trinkets that we bring
When the visionary dreams set hard and grey as flesh made into stone
You tore the statues to the ground crying - let my people go
And now they’re gone, all is gone
But these changing winds can turn cold and hostile
The freedom passion and the two faced call
They dance together upon the wall
With nothing left to break the fall
Now twenty-five miles north in the great dark woods
The college buildings stand
And the ghosts of hope walk silent halls at the death of the Promised Land
All is gone, all is gone
But these changing winds can turn cold and hostile
And in the shadows of the crowded square, a thousand paper deals go down
And hungry sharks from everywhere smell the blood and head for town
Innocence starts to peel away - How money changes everything
The past it eats the future up and this blind desire eats everything
Now the rats they leave one stricken ship for another sailing past
Your world was going nowhere slow while ours goes nowhere fast
And now it’s gone, all is gone
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no subject
Date: 2006-03-25 11:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-26 12:31 am (UTC)In the event that this fantastic voyage
Should turn to erosion, and we never get old
Just remember it's true
Dignity is valuable, but our lives are valuable too
We're learning to live with somebody's depression
and I don't want to live with somebody's depression
We'll get by I suppose
It's a very modern world but nobody's perfect
It's a moving world, but that's no reason
To shoot some of those missiles, think of us as fatherless scum
It won't be forgotten
Cause we'll never say anything nice again, will we?
And the wrong words make you listen in this criminal world
Remember it's true
A loyalty is valuable but our lives are valuable too
We're learning to live with somebody's depression
And I don't want to live with somebody's depression
We'll get by I suppose
But any sudden movement, I've got to write it down
They wipe out an entire race, and I've got to write it down
But I'm still getting educated but I've got to write it down
And it won't be forgotten
Cause I'll never say anything nice again, how can I?
Bowie, Fantastic Voyage
PJ Harvey needs to not sing Kamikaze as the next track on random play, thank you...
I left my anger in a river running Highway 5
New Hampshire/Vermont border by
College farms, hubcaps, falling rocks
Voices in the woods and the mountaintops
I used to search for reservations and native lands
Before I realised everywhere I stand
There have been tribal feet running wild as fire
Some past life sister of my desire
Jonas and Ezekiel hear me now
Steady now and don't come out
I'm not ready for the dead to show its face
Whose turn is it anyway?
Now when I was young my people taught me well
Give back what you take or you'll go to hell
It's not the devil's land, you know it's not that kind
Every devil I meet becomes a friend of mine
Every devil I meet is an angel in disguise
Jonas and Ezekiel hear me now
Steady now and don't come out
I'm not ready for the dead to show its face
Whose angel are you anyway?
The angel sings, darling,
Fear, be still my dear
A bullet in the head, now he's dead
A friend of a friend, someone said
He was an activist with a very short life
I think there's a lesson here, he died without a fight
In the war over land where the world began
Prophecy says it's where the world will end
But there's a tremor growing in our own back yard
Fear in our heads, fear in our hearts
Prophe/fits in the graveyard
Jonas and Ezekiel hear me now
Steady now and don't come out
I'm not ready for the dead to show its face
Whose turn is it anyway?
Jonas and Ezekiel hear me now
Steady now I feel your ghost about
I'm not ready for the dead to show its face
Whose angel are you anyway?
Indigo Girls, Jonas and Ezekeil
sRnEuoKUgUHNVoos
Date: 2007-05-25 05:46 pm (UTC)wyFjaHgqWljRwMI
Date: 2007-06-23 10:21 pm (UTC)duyRjlgdFTzblJXhMn
Date: 2007-06-24 08:43 pm (UTC)