Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong

Under the shade of a Coolabah tree,

And he sang as he watched and waited while his billy boiled,

“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me?”

“Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,

Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me?”

And he sang as he watched and waited while his billy boiled.

“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me?”

Along came a jumbuck to drink at the billabong.

Up jumped the swagman and grabbed it with glee.

And he said as he stuffed that jumbuck in his tuckerbag,

“You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me!”

“Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,

You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me!”

And he sang as he stuffed that jumbuck in his tuckerbag,

“You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me!”

Up rode the Squatter, riding on his Thoroughbred.

Up came the troopers, one, two, three.

“Where’s that jolly jumbuck you’ve got in your tuckerbag?

You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me.”

“Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,

You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me.”

“Where’s that jolly jumbuck you’ve got in your tuckerbag?

You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me.”

Up jumped the swagman, and jumped into the billabong.

“You’ll never catch me alive,” said he.

And his voice may be heard, when you pass by that billabong,

“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me?”

“Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,

Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me?”

And his voice may be heard, when you pass by that billabong,

“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me?”