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Portree Kid Lyrics

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

He drum ho, he drum hey
The teuchter that cam frae Skye

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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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

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


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


Frae Skye
Frae Skye
Frae Skye
Frae Skye

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