Oh, my first dinner
It's dinner for two
And we both foresee
The tension I will go through
Insisting, "I'll still try"
Oh no, you call my bluff
I stoop to crawl...

That's me with the chowder
That's me with the crock pot
Using my new kitchen
Trying to heat up some soup
And I don't know what I am doin'
Oh no, the hen's too tough
I haven't spent enough

I fought with the urge for snacking
I fought with the urge to drink
I think I sought to squat and cry

Every mixture (of)
Ev'ry grain of flour
Confusing, these directions
Dying to heave a pie at you
While I search for my dicing tool, drool
Oh no, the pastry puffs
They start to fall

The jitters crest
The littered mess hints of my misery
The bitter stress drips
Like coffee mixed with tea - wail:
"What if all these recipes
just fail to astound?"
And now my dread's too much

I thought that my nerve was cracking
I thought that I'd curse and slink
The drink I sought was strong and dry

That was just Jim Beam
That was just obscene

That's me on a bender
That's me and I'm crocked, tight
Bruising my new dishes
Trying to heal cups with glue
And I'm too stoned to bind and fuse 'em
Oh no, I've stained my cuff
My damsel's in a huff...

I coughed as I stirred from napping
I balked as you turned to wink
I think I caught the thoughts you sighed:

"That was just a dream"
"My guy, why cry?"
"You're my chef supreme"
"Just extreme, such cuisine, cream..."