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I Am the Supercargo Lyrics
Well once I was a supercargo, my own V.O.C.,
A great white god of great whitegoods,
With shoes upon my feet.
And for that they racked their minds,
In Pidgin, thinking I'll return,
But I'm not an American, I've never worked alone.
Yeah, it's like we're never there, it's like we're never there.
And they say our John Frum's coming, he's bringing cargo like the rest,
At least they don't expect to be surviving their own deaths.
Well it's probably not a good thing to believe in all that shit,
When one way or the other, you get thrown into a pit.
Yeah, it's like we're never there, it's like we're never there.
Yeah, it's like we're never there, it's like we're never there.
And I am ruin borne by sea, the stone age smote by dysentry,
I'm patient zero to the lusts of Papuans,
Who trade one want for another one,
South off the isle of Pentecost,
I wound up on my back,
And if they want to see me one more time,
Then typhoid's seen to that,
And now you're just like all the white folks,
The whites are just like them,
They take pain and superstition,
And then they call it somethin' else,
And they build airfields in the jungle,
That no plane can land on,
They fill me with penicillin,
Man, that shit don't do nothing at all,
Yeah but everybody's got their price,
And most just go a little cheap,
Thinkin' the best the rest are hoping for,
Is to be dying in their sleep.
You want to make good with a cannibal?
You've got to show him how to freeze a priest.
Yeah, it's like we're never there, it's like we're never there.
A great white god of great whitegoods,
With shoes upon my feet.
And for that they racked their minds,
In Pidgin, thinking I'll return,
But I'm not an American, I've never worked alone.
At least they don't expect to be surviving their own deaths.
Well it's probably not a good thing to believe in all that shit,
When one way or the other, you get thrown into a pit.
Yeah, it's like we're never there, it's like we're never there.
I'm patient zero to the lusts of Papuans,
Who trade one want for another one,
South off the isle of Pentecost,
I wound up on my back,
And if they want to see me one more time,
Then typhoid's seen to that,
And now you're just like all the white folks,
The whites are just like them,
They take pain and superstition,
And then they call it somethin' else,
And they build airfields in the jungle,
That no plane can land on,
They fill me with penicillin,
Man, that shit don't do nothing at all,
Yeah but everybody's got their price,
And most just go a little cheap,
Thinkin' the best the rest are hoping for,
Is to be dying in their sleep.
You want to make good with a cannibal?
You've got to show him how to freeze a priest.
Add your song meanings, interpretations, facts, memories & more to the community.
some of these lyrics may be wrong, if someone wants to fill in the wrong bits
i think 'Round up all my friends' might be 'wound up on my back' not too sure though. def the best song on havilah.
just found the right lyrics on the drones website, i dunno how to change these though.
the drones certainly know how to tell a good story
This is a complicated song. To me. A philosphy. John Frum. Wiki that for starters, saves me looking like a prong for plagiarising all his detail.
A great line for a finisher.
Then they can really look forward to those missionaries, considering they can have em strung up in the camp freezer for months of sinewy nutrition.
White man brings white goods white plague white ideals, who is the black man to say no?
Gareth Liddiard explained what this song was about at a solo acoustic set at the Globe in Brisbane.
It is about the country of Papau New Guinea and how they were visited by an American man right after World War 2. Everyone in the country were basically from the stone age and this american bloke came over with all these new technologies and white goods such as fridges. They thought he was some sort of God. Seeing as though this country had only seen stone axes.
"You would be pretty damn impressed with a fucking brand new Kalvinator" he said.
It's a sad story