Portobello Road - Cat Stevens

Getting hung up all day on smiles 
Walking down portobello road for miles 
Greeting strangers in indian boots, 
yellow ties and old brown suits 
Growing old is my only danger 

Cuckoo clocks, and plastic socks 
Lampshades of old antique leather 
Nothing looks weird, not even a beard 
or the boots made out of feathers 

I'll keep walking miles til I feel 
a broom beneath my feet 
or the hawking eyes of an old stuffed bull across the street 

Nothings the same if you see it again 
it'll be broken down to litter 
Oh, and the clothes 
everyone know that that dress will never fit her 

Getting hung up all day on smiles 
Walking down portobello road for miles 
Greeting strangers in indian boots, 
yellow ties and old brown suits 
Growing old is my only danger 

Cuckoo clocks, and plastic socks 
Lampshades of old antique leather 
Nothing looks weird, not even a beard 
or the boots made out of feathers 

I'll keep walking miles til I feel 
a broom beneath my feet 
or the hawking eyes of an old stuffed bull across the street 

Nothing's the same if you see it again 
It'll be broken down to litter 
Oh, and the clothes 
everyone know that that dress will never fit her 

Getting hung up all day on smiles 
Walking down portobello road for miles 
Greeting strangers in indian boots, 
yellow ties and old brown suits 
Growing old is my only danger