G                        D                                       
I remember respectfully like others before me
    A                                                                
All those folk who fell in the war
    G                        D                                        
And I hear you singing songs of lamentation
      A                          D                                    
But I don’t wish to hear them no more
A                                               G                     A
What did you do in the time of the war? It’s a question asked by everyone
   G                       D                    A                     D 
I stood in a line my screwdriver in hand making aircraft out at Laverton
                                                                    
            G                        D
   So don’t sing no songs about Waltzing Matilda
         A         G            A         G                                
   Don’t tell me I tried, don’t tell me I failed
       G                   D                                             
   For all I recall is the scorn of the women
         A                                    D                          
   And a white feather that I received in the mail
                                                                    
    G                     D                                       
I remember the day I went down to enlist
         A                                                          
And they said “Read this chart on the wall”
     G                     D                                         
I remember the tone of the voice of the doctor
      A                                                       D       
As he said to me: “That will be all. Thank you very much”
 A                                      G                      A       
Riding home slowly I sat on my tram not sure if to laugh or to cry
       G                           D                                  
For to train in the camps, sure, a man needs his lamps
      A                              D                                
And a good soldier he must have good eyes
                                                                    
Chorus
                                                                    
        G                          D                               
Well it takes more than bullets to murder and maim
        A                                                            
Whether worn down or beaten a death’s still a death
        G                           D                                 
And you know sometimes when I think back to the forties
  A                     D                                            
I pray for my very last breath
    A                                                                
You know I have nothing against those who fought
        G                           A                                 
But for Christ’s sake we do what we can
            G                          D                              
And there’s more than one way that you can skin a cat
            A                                   D                     
And there’s more than one way you can cripple a man