When breezes blow petticoats of Portugal.
There’s quite a show on the streets of Portugal;
Each passer by winks his eye, whistles and smiles,
The ooh’s and ah’s, loud hurrahs, echo for miles;
The shapely gams, ‘neath petticoats of Portugal.
Start traffic jams, But the cop on the square doesn’t care!
There’s not a guy alive who doesn’t thrive
On watching skirts go free!
Especially the petticoats of Portugal.


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