それはさておき、この曲はパーカッショニストのラルフ・マクドナルド(Ralph McDonald)とウィリアム・ソルター(Wiiliam Salter)の手による作品で、スコットランド生まれのマギー・ベル(Maggie Bell)が1974年のファースト・ソロ・アルバム「クイーン・オブ・ザ・ナイト(Queen Of The Night)」で歌っています。
Here while stand looking, looking around me
While all around me what do I see
Unhappy faces behind a painted smile
Heartache and loneliness dressed up in modern style
Unhappy people living in sin and shame
Reflections of myself, life is no easy game
We’re caught in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
When I’m walking, walking around me
While all the people what do I see
Young girls who’ll soon become streetwalkers in the night
Young boys, the restless breed they’re looking for a fight
Children both rich and poor they’re searching for the truth
If they don’t find it, God help tomorrow’s youth
We’re caught in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
Trade winds are blowing, blowing around me
While all around me what do I see
Hatred and jealousy brotherhood is dying
Love is the answer but no, nobody’s buying
Good people turning bad exceptions are so few
The winds are blowing the choice is all up to you
We’re caught in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
The Dutchman’s not the kind of man
To keep his thumb jammed in the dam
That holds his dreams in
But that’s a secret only Margaret knows
When Amsterdam is golden in the morning
Margaret brings him breakfast
She believes him
He thinks the tulips bloom beneath the snow
He’s mad as he can be
But Margaret only sees that sometimes
Sometimes she sees her unborn children in his eyes
Let us go to the banks of the ocean
Where the walls rise above the Zuiderzee
Long ago I used to be a young man
And dear Margaret remembers that for me
The Dutchman still wears wooden shoes
His cap and coat are patched with love
That Margaret sewed in
Sometimes he thinks he’s still in Rotterdam
He watches tugboats down canals
And calls out to them when he thinks
He knows the captain
‘Til Margaret comes to take him home again
Through unforgiving streets
That trip him though she holds his arm
Sometimes he thinks that he’s alone and calls her name
Let us go to the banks of the ocean
Where the walls rise above the Zuiderzee
Long ago I used to be a young man
And dear Margaret remembers that for me
The windmills whirl the winter in
She winds his muffler tighter
They sit in the kitchen
Some tea with whiskey keeps away the dew
He sees her for a moment calls her name
She makes the bed up humming
Some old love song
She learned it when the tune was very new
He hums a line or two
They hum together in the night
The Dutchman falls asleep and Margaret blows the candle out
Let us go to the banks of the ocean
Where the walls rise above the Zuiderzee
Long ago I used to be a young man
And dear Margaret remembers that for me
Now when I was a young man I carried my 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 nineteen fifteen 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 tears, the flag-waving and cheers
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 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 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 cripples, 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 my legs used to be
And thank 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 glories
And the old men march slowly, old 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 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
Oh, I am a Dundee weaver
And I come frae bonnie Dundee
I met a Glesca fellae
An’ he came courtin me
He took me oot a walkin
Doon by the Kelvin Haa
And there the dirty wee rascal stole
Ma thingamajig awa
There the dirty wee rascal stole
Ma thingamajig awa
He took me oot a walkin
Doon by the Rouken Glen
He showed to me the bonnie wee birds
And he showed me a bonnie wee hen
He showed to me the bonnie wee birds
Frae a linnet tae a craw
And he showed to me the bird that stole
Ma thingamajig awa
He showed to me the bird that stole
Ma thingamajig awa
Noo I’ll gang back to Dundee
Lookin bonny, young and fair
I’ll put on ma buckle an’ shoes
An’ tie up ma bonnie broun hair
I’ll put on ma corsets tight
Tae mak ma body look smaa
And wha will ken ma rosy cheeks
Ma thingamajig’s awa
And wha will ken ma rosy cheeks
Ma thingamajig’s awa
Oh, all ye Dundee weavers
Tak this advice frae me
Never let a fellae an inch above yer knee
Never stand at the back o’ a close
Or up again’ the waa
For if ye dae, ye can safely say
Yer thingamajig’s awa
For if ye dae, ye can safely say
Yer thingamajig’s awa