Union Songs

Almost Nothing

A song by Griff Bignell©Griff Bignell 1979

International trade, where the money is made.
Foreign labour with easy demands,
Is taking its toll on our country's coal
As our heritage slips through its hands.
It's the company's choice arid it's given much voice.
To its reasons why we can't complain.
Our crews ask too much and we're too out of touch.
We'd lose much more than we'd gain.

They go up. They go down.
Tearing black gold from the ground,
And take it away, for almost nothing.

Then unjustified, they'd just brush aside,
Our seamen's demand for a share.
With lands overseas, ever anxious to please,
They don't need them, it's cheaper elsewhere.
Till at long last, we've been sold out so fast,
And suddenly, they have gone.
We receive their regrets, find they've found better yet,
In fields a bit further on.


This song was recorded for the SUA (Seamen's Union of Australia) LP "Flames of Discontent" in 1979

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