A man cam' riding oot the west one wild and stormy daynHe was tail, quiet and hungry, his eyes were smokey greynHe was lean across the hurdies, but his shouders they were bignThe terror o' the hielan' glens that was the Portree KidnnHe drum ho he drum heynThe teuchter that cam' frae SkyennHis sidekick was an orra' man, and oh but he was meannHe was ca'ad the Midnight Ploughboy, and he cam' frae AberdeennHe had twenty seven notches on his cromack so they saynAnd he killed a million indians, way up in StornowaynnPortree booted in the door, he sauntered tae the barnHe poured a shot o' Crabbies, he shouted Slainte Mhath (Slangevar)nWhile Midnight was being chatted up by a bar room girl called PamnWho said 'Well how-dy stranger, wad' ye buy's a Babycham'nnNow over in the corner sat three men frae AuchtertoolnThey were playing games for money, in a snakes and ladder schoolnThe fourth man was a southerner who'd come up from MacmerrynHe'd been a river gambler on the Ballachulish FerrynnHe drum ho he drum heynThe teuchter that cam' frae SkyennPortree walked tae the table and he shouted 'Shake me in'nHe shoogled on the eggcup, he gave the dice a spinnHe threw seven sixes in a row and the game was nearly donenBut then he landed on a snake, and finished on square onennThe game was nearly over and Portree was doing finenHe'd landed on a ladder, he was up to forty ninenHe only had but one to go and the other man was beatnBut the gambler cowped the board over, and shouted 'You're a cheat'nnMen dived behind the rubber plants, to try and save their skinsnThe accordionist stopped playing, his sidekick dropped the spoonsnHe says 'I think its funny, you've been up that ladder twicenAnd ye ayeways dunt the table, when I go tae throw my dice'nnHe drum ho he drum heynThe teuchter that cam' frae SkyennThe gambler drew his Skian Dubh, as fast as lightning speednPortree grabbed a screwtop, he cracked him o'er the heidnThen he gave him laldy, wi' a salmon off the wallnAnd he finished off the business wi' his lucky grousefoot's clawnnPortree walked up tae the bar, he says 'I'll hae a halfnAnd d'ye like the way I stuck it on that wee Macmerry nyaffnBut the southerner crept up behind. his features wracked wi' painnAnd he gubbed him wi' an ashtray, made oot o' a curling stanennThe fight went raging on all night till opening time next daynWi' a break for soup and stovies aff a coronation traynIt was getting kind o' obvious. that neither man would winnWhen came the shout that stopped it all 'There's a bus trip coming in'nnHe drum ho he drum heynThe teuchter that cam' frae SkyennThey sing this song in Galashiels and up by PeterheidnWay down o'er the border. across the Rio TweednAbout what became o Portree, Midnight and the Gambling MannThey opened up a gift shop. selling fresh air in a cannnHe drum ho he drum heynThe teuchter that cam' frae Skyen