This one goes out to all our brothers and sisters across the pond in London town. Other than some visits as a young child, I visited England twice in my twenties when my folks lived in Surrey. I was enamored of the place. The charm, the scenery, the history, the class, not to mention – ah yes – THE PUBS. How many pints of bitter were downed? No idea. I got from place to place like so many others: riding the tube. God Bless the poor souls affected by last week’s terror. To those on the other side, enjoy Hell, won’t you?

From Willesden to Cricklewood
I tell you the town looked good
Walking lonely avenues,
Where rhinestone cowboys find the blues
There’s people in, doing their thing
Gettin’ all the mozzarella in
And the passing time and passing moons
Words flying in cloudy rooms
Plastic bags, milk and eggs
The poor old crone’s got aching legs
How I would love to speak
To everybody on the street
Just for once to break the rules
I know it would be so cool

From Willesden to Cricklewood
From Willesden to Cricklewood
From Willesden to Cricklewood
Come with me and be no good

Be a mad man on the street
Sing something out like reet petite
Let’s hip-hop at traffic lights
Ten thumbs up and smilin’ bright
Crossing all the great divides
Colour,age,and heavy vibes

From Willesden to Cricklewood…

Oh let’s go down to Al Rashid’s
All the Aussie lagers are on me
Now you’ve got the absinthe out
Your old mother-she wants a stout..

From Willesden to Cricklewood
As I went it all looked good
Thought about my babies grown
Thought abour going home
Thought about what’s done is done
We’re alive and that’s the one
From Willesden to Cricklewood

Joe Strummer & the Mescaleros: Willesden to Cricklewood from Rock Art & the X Ray Style