Santos at Woodford
(by Peggy Seeger, aided and abetted by Irene Pyper-Scott, on the sponsoring by the Santos Mining company of the Aborigine Festival THE DREAMING, which was part of the Woodford Folk Festival 2011 into 2012)
There’s a crook called Murdoch preoccupied with hacking
There’s a group called Santos, preoccupied with fracking
Now fracking tears the country up, throws it all away
Leaving absolutely nothing for any other day
That’s only one of Santos’ jobbies there are many
And their other enterprises? Do we like ANY?
They slash and rip and smash and cut
And if ever they leave they don’t clean up
Groundwater gone, the countryside gone
Communities gone, profits gone
Overseas and then ----- MOVE ON.
Santos is wherever the coal is seaming
Santos is here, sponsoring The Dreaming.
Before we go further I want to make it clear
That I’ve opposed such things for fifty-five years
Dozens of issues, time after time,
Government criminals, corporate crime
Domestic violence, aggressive wars
And fighting for what the unions are for,
Women’s rights, Thatcher’s poll taxing
Which, without a doubt, was financial fracking
Mining the pockets of the British poor
To pay for an election and a Falklands war
Nuclear power, Greenham Common
Anything with destructive labels on ‘em
Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan
The endless chaos of man against man
To say nothing about the fate of the Earth
Global warming, pollution and the birth
Of too many humans, and feeling so small
That nothing you do seems to help at all
So this Santos thing .. it’s not quite clear
What the frack I’m doing here.
I discussed it with the agent, argued with myself
Should I leave Woodford on the pantry shelf?
Woodford’s great, it’s caught in a cleft
And doesn’t deserve to be upped and left
But it’s kind of like when you read the news
Do you stay in bed, singing the blues?
Go shopping, go mad, go out on the booze?
Boycott? Picket? Occupy? Choose?
PICKETING’S good, it’s been well tested
Sit down, stand up, get arrested.
BOYCOTT’S an effective, economic boot
It worked pretty well with South African fruit
Just agree on the where, the when, the why
Then get together and OCCUPY
Letters to the editor, songs and tears
I’ve done these things for years and years
So what the frack am I doing here?
Of course I’m just a visitor, here downunder
But I know the story of colonial plunder
It happened in the country that I come from
The native Americans got the crumbs
Left over from European haute cuisine
Like the white fellas picked the black fellas clean
Took their land, silenced their voice
And I’m going to question the blackfella’s choice
Of sponsors? … These corporations
They’re in every corner of every nation
The lengths they’ll go to are beyond belief
To cleanse their reputation, get tax relief.
We’re all internally colonised
They’ve got their sticky fingers into all the pies
Into most of the media, most of the arts
In the public body’s most private parts.
They sponsor us all, you and me
Where do we go for our coffee and tea?
Where do we bank? What do we eat?
There’s the clothes on our backs, the shoes on our feet …
And when we read their sponsored news
Do we Boycott? Picket? Occupy? Choose?
I chose. I’m singing. I’m playing. I’m here.
I support the Dreaming, loud and clear
Even though I know
That the devil is paying for part of the show.