I was walkin' down the street
Concentratin' on truckin' right
I heard a dark voice beside of me
And I looked 'round in a state of fright
I saw four faces, one mad, a brother from the gutter
They looked me up and down a bit and turned to each other

I say, I don't like cricket, oh no, I love it
I don't like cricket, no, no, I love it
Don't you walk through my words
You got to show some respect
Don't you walk through my words
'Cause you ain't heard me out yet

Well, he looked down on my silver chain
He 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 it, I'll take it off your hands
And you'll be sorry you crossed me
You better understand that you're alone"
(A long way from home)

And I say, I don't like reggae, oh no, I love it
I don't like reggae, I love it
Don't you cramp me style
Don't you queer me pitch
Don't you walk through my words
'Cause you ain't heard me out yet

I hurried back to the swimmin' pool, sinkin' pina colada
I heard a dark voice beside me say
"Would you like somethin' harder?"
She said, "I've got it, you want it
My harvest is the best, and if you try it
You'll like it and wallow in a dreadlock holiday"

And I say, don't like Jamaica, oh no, I love her
Don't like Jamaica, oh no, I love her
Don't you walk through my words
You got to show some respect
Don't you walk through my words
'Cause you ain't heard me out yet
I don't like cricket, oh no, I love it (dreadlock holiday)
I don't like reggae, oh no, I love it (dreadlock holiday)
I don't like Jamaica, oh no, I love her (dreadlock holiday)

Copyright: MUSIC SALES CORPORATION
Writer(s): Eric Stewart, Graham Gouldman