Lirik Lagu My Boomerang Won't Come Back - Rolf Harris
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{Oom-yacka-wurka, oom-yacka-wurka, oom-yacka-wurka}
In the bad backlands of AustraliaMany 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?"Drake: My boomerang won't come back."Your boomerang won't come back?"
Drake: 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 black in the face,I'm a big disgrace to the Aborigine race,My boomerang won't come back.
Drake: 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 thenAnd sent him on his way,He had a backless boomerangSo here he could not stay.
{Outback animal noises.}
Drake: [Spoken] This is nice, innit? Getting banished at my time of life. What a way to spend an evening: sitting on a rock in the middle of the desert with me boomerang in me hand. I shall very likely get bushwhacked.
{An animal roars; Drake shrieks back.}
Drake: Get out of it! You nasty bushwhacking animal. Think I'll make a nice cup of tea. {Doing, doing, doing...} Good gracious! There goes a kangaroo. I must have a practice with me boomerang: hit him right behind the left earhole. Now then, slowly back.
[Gruff voice] If you throw that thing at me, I'll jump right on your head. {It chuckles and bounces away.}
Drake: Innit marvellous? Got a land full of kangaroos and I had to pick that one.
For three long months he sat thereOr maybe it was four,Then an old old man in a kangaroo skinCame a-knocking at his door.
"Well, I'm the local witch doctor, son,They call me George Alfred Black.Now tell m
In the bad backlands of AustraliaMany 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?"Drake: My boomerang won't come back."Your boomerang won't come back?"
Drake: 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 black in the face,I'm a big disgrace to the Aborigine race,My boomerang won't come back.
Drake: 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 thenAnd sent him on his way,He had a backless boomerangSo here he could not stay.
{Outback animal noises.}
Drake: [Spoken] This is nice, innit? Getting banished at my time of life. What a way to spend an evening: sitting on a rock in the middle of the desert with me boomerang in me hand. I shall very likely get bushwhacked.
{An animal roars; Drake shrieks back.}
Drake: Get out of it! You nasty bushwhacking animal. Think I'll make a nice cup of tea. {Doing, doing, doing...} Good gracious! There goes a kangaroo. I must have a practice with me boomerang: hit him right behind the left earhole. Now then, slowly back.
[Gruff voice] If you throw that thing at me, I'll jump right on your head. {It chuckles and bounces away.}
Drake: Innit marvellous? Got a land full of kangaroos and I had to pick that one.
For three long months he sat thereOr maybe it was four,Then an old old man in a kangaroo skinCame a-knocking at his door.
"Well, I'm the local witch doctor, son,They call me George Alfred Black.Now tell m
