The Nation of the Glorious Turnip

Is that an apple pie I see?
Forged in a burning stove.
Once before I did drink tea
Ate a piece of apple pie, you see!

Earl Grey tastes quite right for me
The hot water, a touch of citrus,
Perhaps with a dash of milk,
Make great drinking joy.

However that apple pie you see,
Completes my moment of heaven
At four O’clock a piece of splendid pie
To choke, at four fifteen I die.