Biscuits

Biscuits! Biscuits! Biscuits everywhere
Bourbons and custard creams
The foundations of an empire

The fascists stole my biscuits
Used them in their greed
All biscuits should be British
In a world that sees no need

Give them a chocolate finger
You know, the middle one
Or maybe add a second
A British confrontation

Now let's have some tea
A delicious Yorkshire blend
Filled with British milk
As we await a union's end