The Living End

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
Aba-laba-laba, Hut!

Aba-laba-laba Hut!

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)

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