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Next time I’ll call pizza slut
The dogs are fed, the cat is too
Now it’s my turn to have a chew
But Jean is gone, I’m on my own
My stomach growls, I start to moan
I look around for food to nuke
The leftovers all look like puke
So I decide to cook from scratch
I gather wood, and strike a match
I fill a pot, and start to boil
I grease the pan with olive oil
I marinate the meat in sauce
I chiffonade like I’m a boss
I bake spring rolls as an hors d’oeuvre
Then right before I start to serve
My eyes open, I’m on the floor
My head had banged the freezer door
My night as chef was just a dream
I settle for melted ice cream