In the bad, bad lands of
Australia many years ago
The Aborigine tribes were meeting
Having a big pow wow
We've got a lot of trouble, Chief
On account of your son, Mac
My boy Mac, 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
Practiced till I was black in the face
I'm a big disgrace to the Aborigine race
My boomerang won't back
I can ride a kangaroo (yeah, yeah)
Make kinkijou stew (yeah, yeah)
But I'm a big disgrace
To the Aborigine race
My boomerang won't come back
They banished him
From the tribes then
And sent him on his way
He had a backless boomerang
So here he could not stay
This is nice, isn't it
Getting banished at my time in life
What a way to spend an evening
Sitting on a rock in the
Middle of the desert with
Me boomerang in me hand
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
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
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
Oh, yes, never thought of that
Now then, slowly back and throw
I can ride a kangaroo (yeah, yeah)
Make kinkijou stew (yeah, yeah)
But I'm a big disgrace
To the Aborigine race
My boomerang won't come back

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