|
tobywensleyesq -> RE: off his head and around the bend (2/3/2016 7:41:48 AM)
|
(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?"
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.
(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 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?"
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.
"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."
DRAKE: Ooh, yes! Never thought of that. Daddy will be pleased. Must have a go, nyuh-huh! Excuse me.
Now then, slowly back... and throw.
(Boomerang whizzes away; Sounds of a plane approaching and then falling from the sky.)
DRAKE: Ooh my God! I've hit the flying doctor. Eee-hee-hee! Can you do first aid?
Witch Doctor: Don't talk to me about first aid, boy, you owe me fourteen chickens, you know, when
I learned you to throw the boomerang, you know, first things first.
DRAKE: Yes, I know that, but I mean, I think on this occasion, you know, you could be a bit more
|
|
|
|
