Tom Traubert's Blues
Tom Waits Lyrics
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I got what I paid for now
See ya tomorrow, hey Frank can I borrow
A couple of bucks from you
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing Matilda with me
I'm an innocent victim of a blinded alley
And I'm tired of all these soldiers here
No one speaks English, and everything's broken
And my Stacys are soaking wet
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing Matilda with me
Now the dogs are barking
And the taxicabs parking
A lot they can do for me
I begged you to stab me
You tore my shirt open
And I'm down on my knees tonight
Old Bushmills I staggered
You buried the dagger in
Your silhouette window light
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing Matilda with me
Now I've lost my St. Christopher
Now that I've kissed her and the
And the one-armed bandit knows
And the maverick Chinaman, and the cold-blooded signs
And the girls down by the strip tease shows go
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing Matilda with me
No, I don't want your sympathy
The fugitives say that the streets aren't for dreaming now
Manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories
They want a piece of the action anyhow
Go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing Matilda with me
And you can ask any sailor
And the keys from the jailer
And the old men in wheelchairs know
That Matilda's the defendant, she killed about a hundred
And she follows wherever you may go
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing Matilda with me
And it's a battered old suitcase
To a hotel someplace
And a wound that will never heal
No prima donna, the perfume is on
An old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
And goodnight to the street sweepers
The night watchman flame keepers
And goodnight Matilda, too
The lyrics of Tom Waits's song Tom Traubert's Blues describe a man who is "wasted and wounded" and wandering the streets in search of comfort and companionship. He addresses his friend Frank, asking to borrow a few bucks, and then imagines going "waltzing Matilda" with him. The song takes its name from the traditional Australian folk tune "Waltzing Matilda," which tells the story of a swagman (a transient laborer) who steals a sheep and is pursued by the authorities before drowning himself in a billabong (a small lake). In Waits's version, "waltzing Matilda" seems to represent a kind of escape or reverie, a way of finding temporary relief from the hardships of life.
The singer of the song is clearly in a state of distress and disillusionment, feeling trapped and alienated from the world around him. He describes himself as an "innocent victim of a blinded alley" and complains that "no one speaks English, and everything's broken." He longs for connection and understanding, but finds only chaos and confusion. Even his religious symbols fail him: he has lost his St. Christopher medal, which traditionally represents safety and protection for travelers. In the end, he accepts his fate and bids farewell to the "street sweepers" and "night watchman flame keepers" who are the only witnesses to his struggle.
Overall, Tom Traubert's Blues is a poignant and haunting portrait of human vulnerability and isolation. It speaks to the universal longing for meaning and connection, and the difficulty of finding these things in a world that can be harsh and unforgiving.
Line by Line Meaning
Wasted and wounded, it ain't what the moon did
I'm in a bad state, but the moon isn't responsible.
I got what I paid for now
I'm stuck in this situation because of my own actions.
See ya tomorrow, hey Frank can I borrow
I need to borrow some money from Frank.
A couple of bucks from you
I don't need much, just a few dollars.
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing Matilda with me
I long for a better life and want someone to dance with me.
I'm an innocent victim of a blinded alley
I'm caught in a tough situation that's not entirely my fault.
And I'm tired of all these soldiers here
I'm sick of being around people who are always fighting.
No one speaks English, and everything's broken
I'm in a foreign land where nothing seems familiar, and communication is difficult.
And my Stacys are soaking wet
My shoes are soaked and uncomfortable.
Now the dogs are barking
There's a lot of noise and chaos around me.
And the taxicabs parking
People are busy with their own lives and don't care about my problems.
A lot they can do for me
I'm on my own; there's no one to help me.
I begged you to stab me
I'm so desperate that I asked someone to hurt me.
You tore my shirt open
Someone inflicted physical harm on me.
And I'm down on my knees tonight
I'm in a vulnerable position.
Old Bushmills I staggered
I'm drunk on whiskey.
You buried the dagger in
Someone hurt me deeply.
Your silhouette window light
There's a distant light in my life, but it's not close enough to help me.
Now I've lost my St. Christopher
I don't have a religious symbol that's supposed to protect me.
Now that I've kissed her and the
I fell in love with someone, but something went wrong.
And the one-armed bandit knows
Even a slot machine knows my secrets.
And the maverick Chinaman, and the cold-blooded signs
Even things that seem strange and foreign are aware of my problems.
And the girls down by the strip tease shows go
Even women who work in strip clubs are aware of my problems.
No, I don't want your sympathy
I don't need people to feel sorry for me.
The fugitives say that the streets aren't for dreaming now
Other people think that it's not possible to have a better life.
Manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories
People are always looking for trouble, and others try to profit off of pain.
They want a piece of the action anyhow
People are always trying to take advantage of me.
And you can ask any sailor
Even people who travel the world have stories of my problems.
And the keys from the jailer
Even people who are trapped have insight into my problems.
And the old men in wheelchairs know
Even people who are immobile have something to say about my problems.
That Matilda's the defendant, she killed about a hundred
Matilda is a notorious criminal and has done far worse things than me.
And she follows wherever you may go
My troubles always follow me.
And it's a battered old suitcase
I carry all my problems with me.
To a hotel someplace
I'm looking for a new place where things will be better.
And a wound that will never heal
I'm scarred for life.
No prima donna, the perfume is on
I don't put on airs or pretend to be someone I'm not.
An old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
I don't have much; everything I own is old and worn out.
And goodnight to the street sweepers
It's time for everyone else to go to sleep.
The night watchman flame keepers
Only a few people remain awake to keep the city running.
And goodnight Matilda, too
Even my problems need a break.
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, JALMA MUSIC
Written by: Tom Waits
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@noabaak
Wasted and wounded, it ain't what the moon did
Got what I paid for now
See ya tomorrow, hey Frank can I borrow
A couple of bucks from you?
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda
You'll go a-waltzing Mathilda with me
I'm an innocent victim of a blinded alley
And tired of all these soldiers here
No one speaks English and everything's broken
And my Stacys are soaking wet
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda
You'll go a-waltzing Mathilda with me
Now the dogs are barking and the taxi cab's parking
A lot they can do for me
I begged you to stab me, you tore my shirt open
And I'm down on my knees tonight
Old Bushmill's I staggered, you buried the dagger
Your silhouette window light
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda
You'll go a-waltzing Mathilda with me
Now I lost my Saint Christopher now that I've kissed her
And the one-armed bandit knows
And the maverick Chinaman and the cold-blooded signs
And the girls down by the strip-tease shows
Go, waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda
You'll go a-waltzing Mathilda with me
No, I don't want your sympathy
The fugitives say that the streets aren't for dreaming now
Manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories
They want a piece of the action anyhow
Go, waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda
You'll go a-waltzing Mathilda with me
And you can ask any sailor and the keys from the jailor
And the old men in wheelchairs know
That Mathilda's the defendant, she killed about a hundred
And she follows wherever you may go
Waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda
You'll go a-waltzing Mathilda with me
And it's a battered old suitcase to a hotel someplace
And a wound that will never heal
No prima donna, the perfume is on
An old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
And goodnight to the street sweepers
The night watchman flame keepers and goodnight, Mathilda too
@madeleine7411
I got this wonderful gift. I read an article that mentioned Tom Waits so I looked him up and fell in love with his emotional and lovely music. I am only sorry it took me until I was 70.
@carolinearick3082
Better late than never! Can you imagine living without him now that you have found hymn?
@manoutoftime9057
@@TomWaits-qx6kistop with your shite you pathetic charlatan.
@ShastaOrange
Hey, you're still 3 years younger than Tom!
@mantas68
I'm a recovering alcoholic, but I still get the urge to drink from time to time. I listen to this song of a stranger in a strange land, totally drunk, and lost. It brings me back and the urge to drink passes. My Doctors tell me that if I were to continue to waltz with Matilda that it will kill me way, way before my time. I listened to them, got sober, and I'm due for a liver transplant in a year or so. I would've been dead a long time ago if it weren't for this song. Thank you, Tom Waits, for helping me stay sober.
@Boppo101
Music has a wonderful ability to heal, in unexpected ways! If it helps at all, "waltzing matilda" refers to being carefree and rootless - wandering along with nothing more than your meagre belongings tied inside a cloth (a "matlida") that's attached to a stick over your shoulder and swinging ("waltzing") as you walk. Best of luck with your health. I love how Tom Waits and other writers like him can create art that so many people can interpret to mean something personal.
@BillyWetherington
@@Boppo101 I think it was Kierkegaard who said that poets make their pain sound beautiful.
@keithpringle3940
@@BillyWetherington Was it? I'll need to look out his work! Cheers!
@keithpringle3940
@@Boppo101 It sure does mate!
@Blackgeoff1
Very best wishes to you, Michael, for your liver transplant and for the rest of your life. Thank you for helping me realise what this song is really about.