From Little Things Big Things Grow

Gather round, people, I'll tell you a story

An eight-year-long story of power and pride

British Lord Vestey and Vincent Lingiari

Were opposite men on opposite sides

Vestey was fat with money and muscle

Beef was his business, broad was his door

Vincent was lean and 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

Where once they had gathered the wealth of the land

Daily, the pressure got tighter and tighter

Gurindji decided they must make a stand

They picked up their swags and started off walking

At Wattie Creek, they sat themselves down

Now it don't sound like much, but it 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"

Vincent said, "Uh-uh, we're not talking about wages

We're sitting right here till we get our land"

Vestey man roared, Vestey man thundered

"You don't stand the 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

Then Vincent Lingiari, he boarded an airplane

Landed in Sydney, big city of lights

Daily, he went round, softly speaking his story

To all kinds of men from all walks of life

And Vincent sat down with big politicians

"This affair," they told him, "It's a matter of state

Let us sort it out, why, you're people are hungry"

Vincent said, "No thanks, we know how to wait"

From little things, big things grow

From little things, big things grow

Then Vincent Lingiari returned in an airplane

Back to his country, once more, to sit down

He told his people, "Let the stars keep on turning

We have 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 he came with lawyers, came with great ceremony

Through Vincent's fingers, poured a handful of sand

From little things, big things grow

From little things, big things grow

That was the story of Vincent Lingiari

This is the story of something much more

How power and privilege cannot move a people

Who know where they stand and they stand in their 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

From little things, big things grow

From little things, big things grow

From little things, big things grow

From little things, big things grow