Bohemian Gastronomy

Is this the real plate? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a food fight, No escape from gastronomy. Open your mouth, Taste the calories, I'm just a foodie, I need no sympathy. Because I'm easy full, easy bake, Little burnt, little flake, Anywhere the sauce goes Doesn't really batter me... To me To me... Mamaaa, I just killed a pan, Burned the butter, turned it black, Added salt, can't take it back. Mamaaa dinner just begun, But now I've gone and thrown it all away…. away… Away, now I feel better… Mamaaa, ooh oooh ooh oooohhhh Didn't mean to fry your pie, If I'm not done with dessert this time tomorrow, Carry on, carry on, As if the stove never mattered. Too late, my fries are gone, Sends shivers down my spine, Expiration past the line. Goodbye, sweet crème brûlée, Gotta leave you out to rot And walk away. Mamaaa, ooh oooh ooh oooohhhh I don't want to fry, Sometimes I wish I'd stuck to microwave. To microwaaaave… microwave… now it’s much better… I see a little silhouetto of a chef, Escargot! Escargot! Can you do the flambé dance? Mushrooms and anchovies, very, very frightening me! Linguini! (Linguini!) Fettuccini! (Fettuccini!) Tagliatelle! Pappardelle! Ratatouille-oh-oh! I'm just a foodie, nobody loves me, He's just a foodie from a small family, Spare him his plate from this monstrosity. Nothing really batters, Anyone can see, Nothing really batters, Except the recipe. Anywhere the sauce goes... ooh