Well once I was a supercargo, my own V.O.C.,
The great white god of great whitegoods,
With shoes upon my feet.
And for that they racked their minds,
* 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 where never there.
And they say our John Frum's coming, he's bringing cargo and 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 where never there.
Yeah, it's like we're never there, it's like where never there.
And I am ruin borne by sea, stone age smoked by dysentry,
Patient zero to the lust of Papuans,
Trade one want for another want,
Sail off the isle of Pentecost,
Round up all my friends,
And if they want to see me one more time,
Then typhoid's seen to them,
And they are just like all the white folks,
The whites are just like them,
They take pain and superstition,
And then they call it something 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
Most just go on and look cheap,
They get 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 where never there.
