Luyện nghe bài hát Portobello Road

Getting hung up all day on
down portobello road for miles
Greeting strangers in Indian
Yellow and old brown suits
Growing old is my only

Cuckoo clocks, and socks
of old antique leather
Nothing looks weird, not a beard
Or the boots made out of

I'll walking miles 'til I feel
A broom beneath my
Or the hawking of an
Old bull across the street

Nothings the if you see it again
It'll be broken down to
Oh, and the
Everyone know that that will never fit her

hung up all day on smiles
Walking down portobello for miles
Greeting in Indian boots
Yellow and old brown suits
Growing old is my danger

Cuckoo clocks, and socks
Lampshades of old antique
Nothing weird, not even a beard
Or the made out of feathers

I'll walking miles 'til I feel
A beneath my feet
Or the eyes of an
Old bull across the street

Nothing's the if you see it again
be broken down to litter
Oh, and the
Everyone know that that dress never fit her

hung up all day on smiles
Walking down road for miles
Greeting in Indian boots
Yellow and old brown suits
old is my only danger