The biscuits we are eating, we heard Oliver say.
Our friend Charles is a writer with some sway.
He came from Portsmouth, way down south,
Where he lived as a child in his Bleak House,
Said Jegan with a dodger in his mouth.
He wrote his Tale of Two Cities,
But not of bitter ancient dockyard rivalry
Between Southampton and Pompey.
We had Great Expectations of this snack
Which came in two flavours in a cellophane pack.
We know we’ve started to veer off track,
So now we’ll take you back again,
Back to where the poem should begin
With Bill Sykes, Nancy and that rogue, Fagin.