Once i was a supercargo My own V.O.C. The great white God of great white goods With shoes upon my feet And for that they wrack 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 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 d**hs It's probably not a good thing To believe in all that sh** When one way or the other You'll get thrown into a pit. Yeah, it's like we're never there And i am ruin borne by sea The stone age smoked by dysentery I'm patient zero to the lusts of Papuans Who trade one woe for another one South of the isle of Pentecost I wound up on my back If they want to see me one more time Then typhoid's seeing to that 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 Fill me with penicillin That sh** don't do nothing at all But then everybody's got their price Most just go a little cheap Thinking 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