The Dinner Party

It starts with the shopping and then with the chopping My dinner party is starting at eight For hours and hours I'm covered in flour Oh dear I forgot the whitebait While cutting the ginger I've blooded my finger And the eton mess doesn't look fine The pies I'm still prising The soufflés not rising And the cats just drunk some of the wine The blowtorch is burning The mixer is turning And my head is just spinning in time The cat is now reeling My hands have no feeling I think I'm now losing my mind My friends are now late This could be my fate And my foods not looking divine So I'm of to the chippy Be back in a jiffy I'm sure their foods Better than mine