| Gather round people let me tell you’re a story
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| An eight year long story of power and pride
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| British Lord Vestey and Vincent Lingiarri
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| Were opposite men on opposite sides
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| Vestey was fat with money and muscle
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| Beef was his business, broad was his door
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| Vincent was lean and spoke very little
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| He had no bank balance, hard dirt was his floor
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| From little things big things grow
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| From little things big things grow
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| Gurindji were working for nothing but rations
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| Where once they had gathered the wealth of the land
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| Daily the pressure got tighter and tighter
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| Gurindju decided they must make a stand
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| They picked up their swags and started off walking
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| At Wattie Creek they sat themselves down
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| Now it don’t sound like much but it sure got tongues talking
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| Back at the homestead and then in the town
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| From little things big things grow
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| From little things big things grow
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| Vestey man said I’ll double your wages
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| Seven quid a week you’ll have in your hand
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| Vincent said uhuh we’re not talking about wages
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| We’re sitting right here till we get our land
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| Vestey man roared and Vestey man thundered
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| You don’t stand the chance of a cinder in snow
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| Vince said if we fall others are rising
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| From little things big things grow
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| From little things big things grow
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| Then Vincent Lingiarri boarded an aeroplane
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| Landed in Sydney, big city of lights
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| And daily he went round softly speaking his story
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| To all kinds of men from all walks of life
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| And Vincent sat down with big politicians
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| This affair they told him is a matter of state
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| Let us sort it out, your people are hungry
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| Vincent said no thanks, we know how to wait
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| From little things big things grow
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| From little things big things grow
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| Then Vincent Lingiarri returned in an aeroplane
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| Back to his country once more to sit down
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| And he told his people let the stars keep on turning
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| We have friends in the south, in the cities and towns
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| Eight years went by, eight long years of waiting
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| Till one day a tall stranger appeared in the land
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| And he came with lawyers and he came with great ceremony
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| And through Vincent’s fingers poured a handful of sand
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| From little things big things grow
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| From little things big things grow
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| That was the story of Vincent Lingairri
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| But this is the story of something much more
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| How power and privilege can not move a people
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| Who know where they stand and stand in the law
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| From little things big things grow
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| From little things big things grow
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| From little things big things grow
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| From little things big things grow
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| Thanks to SIMONA |