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).
Katoomba, Hey! Macumbah, Ho!
Umgawah! Hey! Ho! Hey-eh! Ah...
Leilani - crula-bula-ulladulla-wok-a-tai
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)
Autor(es): David Faulkner / James Baker