Lyrics:

Oom-yacka-wurka (3x)

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

Oom-yacka-wurka (2x)

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

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.

Get out of it
You nasty bushwhacking animal.
Think I'll make a nice cup of tea.
Doing (3x)
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.

If you throw that thing at me,
I'll jump right on your head.
It chuckles and bounces away.

Innit marvellous?
Got a land full of kangaroos and I had to pick that one.

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