Peggy Lettermore / Jar of Porter

When I was young in cradle cake, no drop of milk no would I take,
Daddy gave me heady steak, gimme a jar of porter.
When I’m dead an' in my grave, I hope a prayer for me you’ll say,
and as you passes by the tule, give me a jar of porter.
And when I reach the golden gate, I hope I’ll not a long to wait,
I’ll call St. Peter sad and say: «Give me a jar of porter!».