Somewhere on a South Pacific island
Sits a young man staring at the surf.
His native girlfriend died a death quite violent
A tribal sacrifice made to the earth. She was brown, her hair was black, her eyes were blue.
A chief's daughter, Leilani was her name.
She and her young man made a handsome two
But lava tore them both apart again. Leilani, don't go to the volcano (he'd say). They were saving for a little hut,
She collected sea-shells every day.
Everynight they'd share a cigarette
But The ancient, angry gods got in the way. Leilani, don't go to the volcano (he'd plead). (CEREMONY:)
Katoomba, Hey! Macumbah, Ho!
Umgawah! Hey! Ho! Hey-eh! Ah…
Leilani – crula-bula-ulladulla-wok-a-tai
Aba-laba-laba, Hut! Leilani-nevageta-huta-tera-cota-tile
Aba-laba-laba Hut!
Umgawah!!! Still the young man sits upon the beach,
He's staring misty-eyed out into space.
He's thinking about his girlfriend (of late, deceased),
At least her death had purpose; now his life is a waste!
Leilani, don't go to the volcano (he'd beg her)
Composição: David Faulkner / James Baker.
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