from the soundtrack to Bedknobs and Broomsticks
Portobello Road, Portobello Road
Street where the riches of ages are stowed.
Anything and everything a chap can unload
Is sold off the barrow in Portebello road.
You’ll find what you want in the Portebello road.
Rare alabaster? Genuine plaster!
A filigreed samovar owned by the czars.
A pen used by Shelley? A new Boticelli?
The sniper that clipped old King Edward’s cigars?
Waterford Crystals? Napoleon’s pistols?
Society heirlooms with genuine gems!
Rembrandts! El Greco’s! Toulouse-Letrec’os!
Painted last week on the banks of the Thames!
Portobello road, Portobello road!
Street where the riches of ages are stowed
Anything and everything a chap can unload
Is sold off the barrow in Portobello road.
You’ll meet all your chums in the Portobello road
There’s pure inspiration in every creation.
No cheap imitations, not here in me store.
With garments as such as was worn by a Duchess.
Just once at some royal occasion of yore.
In Portobollo Road, Portobello Road
The fancies and fineries of ages are showed.
A lady will always feel dressed a la mode
In frillies she finds in the Portobollo road.
“Burke’s Peerage;” “The Bride Book;” “The Fishmonger’s Guidebook;”
A Victorian novel, “The Unwanted Son;”
“The History of Potting”, “The Yearbook of Yachting,”
The leather bound “Life of Attila the Hun.”
Portobello Road, Portobello Road
Street where the riches of ages are stowed
Artifacts to glorify our regal abode
Are hidden in the flotsam in Portobello Road
You’ll find what you want in the Portobello Road
Tokens and treasures, yesterday’s pleasures
Cheap imitations of heirlooms of old
Dented and tarnished, scarred and unvarnished
In old Portobello they’re bought and they’re sold
Portebollo Road, Portobello Road
Street where the riches of ages are stowed
Artifacts to glorify our regal abode
Are hidden in the flotsam in Portobello road.
You’ll find what you want in the Portobello Road
