Luyện nghe bài hát Portobello Road

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

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

I'll keep walking miles 'til I
A broom my feet
Or the eyes of an
Old stuffed bull the street

Nothings the if you see it again
be broken down to litter
Oh, and the
Everyone that that dress will never fit her

Getting hung up all day on
down portobello road for miles
Greeting in Indian boots
Yellow ties and old brown
Growing old is my danger

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

I'll keep miles 'til I feel
A beneath my feet
Or the hawking of an
Old stuffed bull across the

Nothing's the same if you see it
be broken down to litter
Oh, and the
Everyone know that that dress will fit her

hung up all day on smiles
Walking down portobello for miles
Greeting strangers in boots
Yellow ties and old brown
Growing old is my only