Luyện nghe bài hát Portree Kid

A man came ridin' oot the 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 Hielan glens, was The Portree Kid

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

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

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

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Portree walked tae the table and he shouted me in
He shoogled on the eggcup, he gave the dice a
He threw seven 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 Portree was fine
He'd landed on a ladder, he was up tae forty
He had but one to go and the other man was beat
But the gambler the board off, and shouted you're a cheat

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

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

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

The fight raging on all night till opening time next day
Wi' a break for soup and stovies aff a tray
It was kind 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 sing this song in Galashiels and up by
Way down o'er the border, the Rio Tweed
But what became o' Portree, Midnight and the man,
opened up a gift shop selling fresh air in a can

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Frae
Frae
Frae
Skye