Porterage down The dark gross chapel He stepped streets around now Sales person mobile
Porterage down Dark gross chapel He stepped streets around now Was introduced by a woman loose-limbed, slim
One woke up to a whitewashed ugly wall - whoosh! Made worse by dirty postcards Trapped in their town
They’re embracing criminals in panicky hall No temper for Fall group
I’ll put you down Porterage down To the dark gross chapel He stepped streets around now Sales-person, mobile
I’ll put you down To the gross chapel
You were right said Peter Dying for a smoke But you shouldn’t have said to the police Jobs I do are little things Like the chemist coming on insulted They were as fed up as I was Waiting outside after putting blame on you
Porterage down Ask him! I am ailing Porterage down
Then let us fill a bumper, And drink a health to those Who carry caps and pouches, And wear the louped clothes. May they and their commanders Live happy all their years
Whene’er we are commanded To storm the palisades Our leaders march with fusees, And we with hand grenades. We throw them from the glacis, About the enemies’ ears. Sing tow, row, row, row, row, row, For the British Grenadiers.