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The Friday Game lyrics
The Friday Game lyrics
turnover time:2024-12-30 15:29:04
The Friday Game lyrics

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

(REF)(2x)

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

(REF)

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

(REF)

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

(REF)

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

(REF)

Frae Skye

Frae Skye

Frae Skye

Frae Skye

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The Corries
  • country:United Kingdom
  • Languages:English, English (Scots)
  • Genre:Folk
  • Official site:http://www.corries.com/
  • Wiki:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Corries
The Corries
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