My Boomerang Won't Come Back

(Oom-yacka-wurka, oom-yacka-wurka, oom-yacka-wurka)

In the bad backlands of Australia
Many years ago,
The aborigine tribes were meeting,
Having a big pow-wow.

(Oom-yacka-wurka, oom-yacka-wurka)

"We got a lot of trouble, Chief,
On account of your son Mack."
"My boy Mack? Why, what's wrong with him?"
My boomerang won't come back.
"Your boomerang won't come back?"

My boomerang won't come back,
My boomerang won't come back,
I've waved the thing all over the place,
Practised till I was blue in the face,
I'm a big disgrace to the Aborigine race,
My boomerang won't come back.

I can ride a kangaroo (yeah yeah)
Make kinkajou stew (yeah yeah)
But I'm a big disgrace to the Aborigine race,
My boomerang won't come back.

They banished him from the tribe then
And sent him on his way,
He had a backless boomerang
So here he could not stay.


For three long months he sat there
Or maybe it was four,
Then an old old man in a kangaroo skin
Came a-knocking at his door.

"Well, I'm the local witch doctor, son,
They call me George Alfred Black.
Now tell me, what's your trouble, boy?"
My boomerang won't come back.
"Your boomerang won't come back?"

My boomerang won't come back,
My boomerang won't come back,
I've waved the thing all over the place,
Practised till I was blue in the face,
I'm a big disgrace to the Aborigine race,
My boomerang won't come back.

"Don't worry, boy, I know the trick,
And to you I'm gonna show it.
If you want your boomerang to come back,
Well first you've got to... throw it."