Текстове на песни: 10 Cc. Bloody Tourists. Dreadlock Holiday.

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 thru' my words
You got to show some respect
Don't you walk thru' my words
'Cause you ain't heard me out yet.

Well he looked down at 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'd better understand that you're alone
A long way from home.

And I say
I don't like reggae no no
I love it
I don't like regaae
I love it

Don't you cramp me style
Don't you queer me pitch
Don't you walk thru' my words
'Cause you ain't heard me out yet.

I hurried back to the swimming pool
sippin' Pina Colada
I heard a dark voice beside me say
Would you like something harder
She said I've got it you want it
My harvest is the best
And it you try it you'll like it
And whollow in a Dreadlock Holyday.

And I say
Don't like Jamaica oh no
I love her
Don't like Jamaica oh no
I love her oh yea
Don't you walk thru' her words
You got to show some respect
Don't you walk thru' her words
'Cause you ain't heard her out yet.

I don't like cricket
I love it Dreadlock Holiday
I don't like reggae
I love it Dreadlock Holiday
Don't like Jamaica
I love her Dreadlock Holiday.