Matt Zarb: Music

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If I were a swagman I’d camp by a billabong under the shade of a coolabah tree And I’d play my guitar and the critters could sing along we’d sing You come a waltzing Matilda with me. If I were a swagman I’d sit by the fire and look at the stars until I would tire And lay my head down and dream I could see Dear Rosey Matilda is dancing with me… If I were a swagman I’d wander away far from the cities and towns I would stray Far away from the highways and do everything my way and wait for my billy to boil If were the squatter and the jumbuck were mine, I’d call off the troopers And be far more kind to the swaggie that wanders alone on the land But sometimes he just don’t understand That the swagman that jumped in the old billabong and waltzed his Matilda and sang his own song to the tune of the magpie and old currawong in the shade of a coolabah tree.. He may have been looking at me…. I’m somebody’s daughter and somebody’s son with nowhere to hide and nowhere to run. In this crazy old world that’s come all undone… So pack up your swags and come waltzing Matilda with me…. I think of the swagman camped under his tree boiling his billy and drinking his tea. He whistles the tune to his favorite song and stares in the old billabong. The water is still and reflecting the sky the grey in his beard and the tear in his eye For a life thats behind him will always remind him that yesterday’s no place to be. In the shade of a coolabah tree while you’re boiling your billy of tea.. That waltzing Matilda and singing your song and watching the sky in an old billabong And chasing a rainbow to dance in the rain to wash away all of the pain.. And the story will always remain of the swagman without a name You come a waltzing Matilda with me… Come sit in the shade of a coolabah tree cause yesterday surely is no place to be. The swagman that sits there just could have been me and there’s none so blind that cannot see that the jumbuck should always be free… Come dance your Matilda with me…