From Little Things Big Things Grow (Kev Carmody cover)

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