What about "Never Wed An Old Man" (He's got no faloorum....) and Eric Bogle's "And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda" about the Australian soldiers at Gallipoli - particularly this verse: And 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 Re-living old dreams and past glory And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore The tired old heroes of a forgotten war And the young people ask, "What are they marching for?" And I ask myself the same question. (the storyteller, of course, cannot march as he lost both legs at Gallipoli)
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