Sunday Luncheon

The old boy went swimming, he goes every Sunday morning
whilst the little slave stays home, cooking luncheon,
Mark is in the garden, butchering the bay leaf tree
Don't know what got into the boys, going manic with my trees
So as the boy goes,   Mozart lands on the deck
haven't heard him for a long while, it's about time, he came, out
As I was preparing the chicken, Mozart started with Symphony No.29
So I cut chicken in half, as I can't bare to see a whole chicken before me
He was playing so beautifully, the most amazing sounds
The problem, I can't just listen, without waving my hands
then No.35 came on didn't like that sound, it was the funeral march,
don't you know, in my haste to stop that cacophony
I dropped the bloody knife, and oh bugger I nearly kill, my foot.
so limping I go to change the ruddy thing ...and Symphony 38 comes in ...
Ahhh, that's much better, powerful, powerful music
So chicken goes in the oven, with shallots and little potato's
and I always put bay leaves, and garlic for the flavour
as I start on the veg, symphony 39 comes on,
the most beautiful sound, the whole Philharmonic orchestra
right there in my kitchen, had quite forgotten, how beautiful it sounded
so I prepared carrots beans sprouts and cauliflower too,
then I made a cheese sauce, to go with it ...then symphony no. 40, followed by 41
I started on the pudding, so I made a tart Tatin.
no so sure of that spelling, but it matters not, you get the gist of it
I made it with plume's, and very nice they were, I made a caramel with orange rind 
cinnamon and star aniseed, it makes a lovely liqueur
to poach the plums in then serenade No.9 comes on
oh my it feels my whole brain, with the most, ecstatic music you can imagine
So what the hell I burned the caramel and the plums too
so I put a hat on it and serve it with ice cream ...Yum.
so that's what music does to me, completely and utterly lost.