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Cargo Cult

Cargo cults sprang up in the islands of the South Pacific during World War II. The US military established bases on the islands and the islanders were fascinated by the cargo planes bringing supplies to the troops. The technology became mixed up with their own spiritual beliefs which in turn were somehow combined with snippets of the Christian teachings from the missionaries. As a result they believed that the cargo planes came from Paradise. As only their ancestors lived in Paradise the cargo must be intended for them, but somehow the Americans managed to coax the planes down using magic rituals, such as talking into radios, building landing strips, praying, marching etc. They reasoned that if only they could learn these rituals, then they too could get the cargo. There are some great videos on YouTube discussing cargo cults including the Cargo Cult at Port Moresby.

 

Chorus

Our eyes search the sky

We are waiting for our cargo

Maybe it will come tomorrow

Our eyes search the sky

 

The white man knows the way

To steal our ancestor’s treasure

He’s learnt the secret rites

He’s a lazy pirating impostor

He can coax the big birds from the sky

Those big birds with their cargo

He can even fly!                        

He fills our hearts with wonder

 

chorus

 

So we learn the white man’s ways

The missionaries want to teach us

They give us bibles and we pray

That someday the cargo will reach us

We watch their soldiers march

We hear their thunder roar

The big birds circle overhead

Before flying down once more

 

chorus

They say the cargo’s made by them

But we know they’re telling lies

We’ve never seen them make a thing

Their words we now despise

They shuffle paper on their tables

They just sit around all day

Speaking into boxes full of wires

While their missionaries pray

 

chorus

 

Now the white man has gone

And we are on our own

The cargo is ours for the taking

If only we can get it down

Our bamboo plane is on the landing strip

Our lanterns light the way

We march with sticks on our shoulders

Whilst our holy brothers pray …. to Jesus

 

chorus

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