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       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