Could see 'ow Larnin', Law, and Light oppress 'em,
Our good old cracksmen-gangs, he'd go stark mad.
As for the Hartful Dodger and old Fagin,
Ah! they're well hout of it. Wot could they do
With Science and her bloomin' fireworks plaguin'
Their hartfullest little games the whole Town through?
Our only 'ope, my NAN, is in the Noodles,
There's still some left in London I'll be bound.
To lurk a crib, prig wipes, sneak ladies' poodles,
Gits 'arder every day; we're watched all round.