Luyện nghe bài hát Portree Kid

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

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He drum ho, he hey
The that cam frae Skye
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His was an orra' man and oh but he was mean
He was ca'd The Plough-Boy and he cam fae Aberdeen
He had twenty seven on his cromack so they say
And killed a Indians, way up in Stornoway

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

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

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

The game was nearly over and was daein fine
He'd landed on a ladder, he was up tae nine
He only had but one to go and the other man was
But the gambler couped the board off, and shouted a cheat

Men dived behind the plants to try and save their skins
The accordionist stopped playing, his sidekick the spoons
He says I think its funny, you've been up that ladder
And ye dunt the table, when I go to throw my dice

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

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

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

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

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Frae
Skye
Frae
Frae