Boomerang
Song Background/Inspiration
You get laid off, replaced by a machine, and forgotten by the afternoon. Then, months later, the call comes - quietly, through the side door, with a better number attached - because the machine couldn't do what you did. Boomerang is sung from the chair of the person who was thrown away and came back, and it takes its name from the obvious physics: the thing you fling to be rid of has a way of arcing right back to your hand. The verses are cold and a little smug; the chorus swings on the simple inevitability of the return. Underneath the swagger is a sharper point - a company can rehire a person, but the hard-won knowledge that walked out with them does not always come back so easily.
Lyrics
You signed the memo, killed the lights
Told the floor we'd be alright
Said the future writes itself in clean machine
You threw me out the open door
Forgot my name by half past four
Watched me disappear and called it all foreseen
But the thing about a thing you throw
It depends on how you let it go
Bent just right, it don't stay gone
Boomerang, boomerang
You let me fly and here I am
Cutting back across the sky to where you stand
You called it gone, you called it done
Funny how the arc still runs
You can't unthrow a boomerang
I'm coming back to your hand
Ninety days of quiet wins
Then the complaints came rolling in
And the forty percent you couldn't automate
Now the inbox writes me low and slow"No press release, just so you know"
Side door open, higher number on the plate
You said we'd only get in the way
Look who's getting the call today
Bent just right, I don't stay gone
Boomerang, boomerang
You let me fly and here I am
Cutting back across the sky to where you stand
You called it gone, you called it done
Funny how the arc still runs
You can't unthrow a boomerang
I'm coming back to your hand
You can rehire the hands, but not the why
The reason-we-do-it-this-way died on the fly
I'll come back, sure - I'll clean the mess
But the part that walked out the door? That part don't come back, no
Unless you ask it nice
Boomerang, boomerang
The same hand throws, the same hand hangs
Open and empty, waiting on the swing
You called it gone, you called it dead
Should've thought of that instead
You can't unthrow a boomerang
I'm coming back to your hand.
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