Eric Bogle - The Band Played Waltzing Matilda (Live 2009) reaction commentary - Folk скачать в хорошем качестве

Eric Bogle - The Band Played Waltzing Matilda (Live 2009) reaction commentary - Folk

Today I listen to Scottish-born Australian folk singer-songwriter, Eric Bogle perform The Band Played Waltzing Matilda live at Stoneyfell Winery, Adelaide, South Australia on 1st March, 2009. Chapters 0:00 - Intro 0:23 - And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda 9:10 - My thoughts 15:30 - Who is Eric Bogle? Links Original Music Video:    • Eric Bogle - The Band Played Waltzing Matilda   Oz Rock:    • Oz Rock   Live Music playlist:    • Live Music   Folk Music playlist:    • Folk Music   Eric Bogle is a Scottish-born Australian folk singer-songwriter. Born and raised in Scotland, he emigrated to Australia at the age of 25, to settle near Adelaide, South Australia. Bogle's songs have covered a variety of topics and have been performed by many artists. Two of his best known songs are "No Man's Land" (or "The Green Fields of France") and "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda", with the latter named one of the APRA Top 30 Australian songs in 2001, as part of the celebrations for the Australasian Performing Right Association's 75th anniversary. "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda" is a song written by Scottish-born Australian singer-songwriter Eric Bogle in 1971. The song describes war as futile and gruesome, while criticising those who seek to glorify it. This is exemplified in the song by the account of a young Australian serviceman who is maimed during the Gallipoli Campaign of the First World War. The protagonist, who had travelled across rural Australia before the war, is emotionally devastated by the loss of his legs in battle. As the years pass he notes the death of other veterans, while the younger generation becomes apathetic to the veterans and their cause. At its conclusion, the song incorporates the melody and a few lines of lyrics of the 1895 song "Waltzing Matilda" by Australian poet Banjo Paterson. Lyrics 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 showered us with bullets And he rained us with shell, and in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all straight 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, 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 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 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 forgotten 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, 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?"