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(Bator/James) |
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If you're living outside of the law. Run to your hole-in-the-wall. |
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Bohemian hideout, a smugglers' inn. Find safety and refuge within. |
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Strangers' bazzar. Doesn't matter who you are. There's a melting |
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pot of lunatic fringe. Seething with sedition. Annointed with |
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wisdom. The streets of Portobello's extremes. If voting could |
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change things they'd make it illegal. Truth is the sword of us |
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all. Insane are the normal. Musicians and outlaws. The artists |
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and rasta and dreams, dreams, dreams. |
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We gotta go......Portobello |
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Yeah, you gotta go.....Portobello |
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You gotta go, we gotta go, I gotta go....Portobello |
