Luyện nghe bài hát Portree Kid

A man ridin' oot the west one wild and stormy day
He was quiet lean and hungry, his eyes smoky grey
He was across the hurdies but his shooders they were big
The terror o' the glens, that was The Portree Kid

(chorus)
He ho, he drum hey
The teuchter cam frae Skye
(chorus)

His sidekick was an man and oh but he was mean
He was The Midnight Plough-Boy and he cam fae Aberdeen
He had twenty notches on his cromack so they say
And killed a million Indians, way up in

Portree booted in the door, he tae the bar
He poured a o' crabbies, he shouted "Slainte Mhath"
While midnight was being chatted up by a bar girl called Pam
Who said well stranger, would you buy's a babycham

Now over in the sat three men fae Auchtertool
They were playing games for money, in a snakes and school
The man was a southerner who'd come up from Macmerry
He'd been a river gambler, on the Ferry

(chorus)

Portree walked tae the and he shouted shake me in
He shoogled on the eggcup, he the dice a spin
He threw sixes in a row and the game was nearly done
But then he landed on a snake, and finished on one

The game was nearly over and Portree was fine
He'd landed on a ladder, he was up tae forty
He only had but one to go and the man was beat
But the gambler couped the board off, and shouted you're a

Men dived behind the rubber plants to try and their skins
The accordionist playing, his sidekick dropped the spoons
He says I think its funny, been up that ladder twice
And ye a'ways the table, when I go to throw my dice

(chorus)

The gambler drew his Sgian as fast as lightning speed
grabbed a screwtop, he cracked him o'er the heid
Then he gave him laldy wi' a off the wall
And he finished off the business, wi' his lucky grousefoot's

walked up tae the bar, he says I'll hae a half
And d'ye like the way I stuck it on wee Macmerry nyaff
But the Southerner crept up behind his features wi' pain
And gubbed him wi' an ashtray, oot o' a curling stane

The fight raging on all night till opening time next day
Wi' a break for and stovies aff a coronation tray
It was getting kind o' obvious, that neither man win
When came the shout that it all, there's a bus trip comin' in

(chorus)

They sing this in Galashiels and up by Peterheid
Way o'er the border, across the Rio Tweed
But what became o' Portree, and the gamblin' man,
They up a gift shop selling fresh air in a can

(chorus)

Frae
Frae
Skye
Frae