Dreadlock Holiday
Songwriters: Graham Keith Gouldman; Eric Michael StewartI was walkin' down the streetConcentratin' on truckin' rightI heard a dark voice beside of meAnd I looked round in a state of fright
I saw four faces one madA brother from the gutterThey looked me up and down a bitAnd turned to each other
I say I don't like cricket, oh noI love itI don't like cricket, no, noI love it
Don't you walk through my wordsYou got to show some respectDon't you walk through my words'Cause you ain't heard me out yet
Well he looked down at my silver chainHe said, "I'll give you one dollar"I said, "You've got to be jokin' man"It was a present from me mother
He said "I like it I want itI'll take it off your handsAnd you'll be sorry you crossed meYou'd better understand that you're aloneA long way from home"
And I say I don't like reggae, no, noI love itI don't like reggae, ohI love it
Don't you cramp me styleDon't you queer on me pitchDon't you walk through my words'Cause you ain't heard me out yet
I hurried back to the swimming poolSinkin' pina coladasI heard a dark voice beside me say"Would you like something harder?"
She said, "I've got it you want itMy harvest is the bestAnd if you try it you'll like itAnd wallow in a dreadlock holiday"
And I say don't like Jamaica oh noI love herDon't like Jamaica, oh noI love her oh yea
Don't you walk through her wordsYou got to show some respectDon't you walk through her words'Cause you ain't heard her out yet
I don't like cricket, oh noI love it(Dreadlock holiday)
I don't like reggae, oh noI love it(Dreadlock holiday)
Don't like Jamaica, yeahI love her(Dreadlock holiday)
I don't like cricket, oh noI love it(Dreadlock holiday)
I don't like reggae, oh noI love it