Cricklewood

Come all you true born Irishmen and listen to my song

I am a bold buck navvy and I don't know right from wrong

Of late I've been transported from Ireland's holy shore

My case is sad my crime is bad I was born poor

chorus:

Cricklewood Cricklewood

You stole my youth away

I was young and innocent

You were old and grey

If you are born poor me lads it is a shocking state

The judge will sit upon your crime and this he will

relate

I find the prisoner guilty and the law I must lay down

Let him be transported straight away to Camden Town

chorus

Take him down to Cricklewood and leave him in the pub

Call the barman landlord then propose to him a sub

Leave him down in Cricklewood mid mortar bricks and lime

Let him rot in Cricklewood until the end of time.