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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