bazoombah

now's not the time
to mull over and whine
the clocks have spoken
I've heard them chime
to remind that it's near
the time i always fear
when I have to decide
what are we going to dine
or what is it for dinner
like a goddamn sinner
I wish it were only just me
then a small meal it'd be
but alright that's fine
the gods've given me a sign
a deaf mute signal
or was it just a mime
   'child,wash off the dust
wipe out the grime
cook what you must
whatever you think of first
if yer heart is true
it could even be slime'
oh god i thank you
for the dumb whispering
divine coo
now i know what i should do
as you said my heart need be true
food is food
either drink or chew
and there's enough time
to cook a dish of mine
a baking tray full of aromatic air
by no means is that an end
of tonight's extravagant affair
for my heart leaps
with thoughts so nice
I'll serve baked air with a soup of ice