(MR. BUMBLE) Oliver, Oliver Never before has a boy wanted more Oliver, Oliver Won't ask for more when he knows what's in store There's a dark, thin winding stairway without any banister Which we'll throw him down And feed him the cockroaches served in a canister Oliver, Oliver What will he do when he's turned black and blue He will rue the day somebody named him Ol-i-ver (MRS.BUMBLE) There's a sooty, chimney, place where black cinders are coming out, Which we'll throw him up and, One day next year with the rats he'll be creeping out. (MR.BUMBLE) What heavens pray will the goveners say, (MRS.BUMBLE) They will lay the blame, on the on who named him: (MR.BUMBLE) Ol-i-ver