| A man cam' riding oot the west one wild and stormy day
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| He was tail, quiet and hungry, his eyes were smokey grey
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| He was lean across the hurdies, but his shouders they were big
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| The terror o' the hielan' glens that was the Portree Kid
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| He drum ho he drum hey
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| The teuchter that cam' frae Skye
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| His sidekick was an orra' man, and oh but he was mean
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| He was ca’ad the Midnight Ploughboy, and he cam' frae Aberdeen
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| He had twenty seven notches on his cromack so they say
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| And he killed a million indians, way up in Stornoway
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| Portree booted in the door, he sauntered tae the bar
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| He poured a shot o' Crabbies, he shouted Slainte Mhath (Slangevar)
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| While Midnight was being chatted up by a bar room girl called Pam
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| Who said 'Well how-dy stranger, wad' ye buy’s a Babycham'
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| Now over in the corner sat three men frae Auchtertool
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| They were playing games for money, in a snakes and ladder school
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| The fourth man was a southerner who’d come up from Macmerry
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| He’d been a river gambler on the Ballachulish Ferry
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| He drum ho he drum hey
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| The teuchter that cam' frae Skye
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| Portree walked tae the table and he shouted 'Shake me in'
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| He shoogled on the eggcup, he gave the dice a spin
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| He threw seven sixes in a row and the game was nearly done
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| But then he landed on a snake, and finished on square one
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| The game was nearly over and Portree was doing fine
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| He’d landed on a ladder, he was up to forty nine
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| He only had but one to go and the other man was beat
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| But the gambler cowped the board over, and shouted 'You're a cheat'
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| Men dived behind the rubber plants, to try and save their skins
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| The accordionist stopped playing, his sidekick dropped the spoons
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| He says 'I think its funny, you’ve been up that ladder twice
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| And ye ayeways dunt the table, when I go tae throw my dice'
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| He drum ho he drum hey
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| The teuchter that cam' frae Skye
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| The gambler drew his Sgian Dubh, as fast as lightning speed
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| Portree grabbed a screwtop, he cracked him o’er the heid
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| Then he gave him laldy, wi' a salmon off the wall
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| And he finished off the business wi' his lucky grousefoot’s claw
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| Portree walked up tae the bar, he says 'I'll hae a half
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| And d’ye like the way I stuck it on that wee Macmerry nyaff
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| But the southerner crept up behind. |
| his features wracked wi' pain
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| And he gubbed him wi' an ashtray, made oot o' a curling stane
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| The fight went raging on all night till opening time next day
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| Wi' a break for soup and stovies aff a coronation tray
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| It was getting kind o' obvious. |
| that neither man would win
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| When came the shout that stopped it all 'There's a bus trip coming in'
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| He drum ho he drum hey
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| The teuchter that cam' frae Skye
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| They sing this song in Galashiels and up by Peterheid
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| Way down o’er the border. |
| across the Rio Tweed
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| About what became o Portree, Midnight and the Gambling Man
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| They opened up a gift shop. |
| selling fresh air in a can
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| He drum ho he drum hey
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| The teuchter that cam' frae Skye |