Tracers and flares of fire-fights light up the shadowed night

Of a foreign war-torn land where bushes move in reflected light.

Eyes and ears confirm the sights and sounds of deadly scenes

And jaws set in a rictus of dread, stifle the ability to scream.

The star constellations are alien; where is the Southern Cross?

Without the five stars we know so well, we Anzac boys feel lost.

But despite the awful din of war, we hold the chord of Anzac pride;

We won't let any fear or dread, dim the memory of those who died.

We are the best of the best that are, and we'll stand fast until we fall

And though we might wish otherwise, we responded to the call

Neither fear nor fortune seed our hearts; ours is a duty to be done

And the fight for freedom shall never cease until that fight's been won!

When the sound of war is heard across the killing fields no more

We'll remain alert and prepared to fight so freedom will endure.

While rallying 'neath the tattered flag flying proudly in the breeze,

We'll sing of our Matilda, and await the sunrise o'er mallee trees.