A Search for English Tea

Earlier this week, I focused on a task,
To buy some English tea-is that so much to ask?
I know Frenchies like their 'Tizane'-green tea to you and I,
But they're not too fond of PG tips and I can't fathom why.
I went to the supermarket and searched around the store,
Until a shelf-stacker thought to ask me, 'What are you looking for?'
I said in my best French that i'd love some English tea,
She didn't mess about she took me there quickly.
When I was at the shelf I thought i'd be real snappy,
There seemed to be enough to keep any tea fan happy.
After some deliberation I went for Lipton tea,
Their boast of "thé Anglais" really did the trick for me.
I settled down that evening with what I thought would be a brew,
Yet tasted what resembled liquified dog poo!
I'm sorry that's not pleasant, but imagine how I felt,
And if you want a worse thought -think how my breath smelt!
With the tea bags in the bin, I tried another shop,
I found the teas no problem and ignored the herbal lot.
I searched for names I could pronounce or brands I recognised,
And sure enough Tetley's tea appeared before my eyes.
If Lipton tea was cotton, then this was surely silk,
I bought these bags quickly as well as getting milk.
I sat down with my purchase and even read the box,
Lipton let me down, but Tetley? Surely not.
Tea from 'Angleterre' and Middlesex to boot,
I'm not sure if the tea was picked there, perhaps i'll chase its roots.
Once again I reclined as I put mug to lips
And once again I found the tea to taste far more like shit!
But this time it wasn't the tea, the milk tasted like cream,
Sometimes the bloody French make me want to scream!
With that stiff upper lip I eventually got that decent mug of tea,
Which shows you can take me out of England but not the England out of me!