Nietzsche got it wrong
And though I’ve often heard it said
I think I’m sure of it myself
Yes - I know I am not dead

I never died, nor was I born
I am older than the Earth
And as for all the stars around
I oversaw their birth

I am ancient.  Modern.  Wise
Sager than the sage
Though not as great as once I was
But I put that down to age

I remember when I started
On a creative cuisine quest
I had a lot of great ideas
I did what I do best

I put everything together
Stirred it all in one big pan
Left it on the kitchen stove
And returned to a big bang

The house was in pure turmoil
Matter spread everywhere
I went up to have a shower
(Well, I had to wash my hair)

On returning through the dining room
I found a small blue orb
A beautiful little watery rock
And my attention was absorbed

So I did a bit of dabbling
Gave it life, with cunning stealth
And having spent some time on that
I left it on a shelf

Then I got a little peckish
Needed to eat and breathe and stop
I was disarray, what can I say...
I went down to the shop

But unlike my other projects
(those where I cook and bake)
This one got away from me;
Leaving the house was a mistake

On my return, I was to learn
That everything had spread
The kitchen was now 5 miles wide
Geography hurt my head

I thought I’d spotted a hint of blue
In the corner of my eye
But as I moved towards it
It rolled to who knows where or why

Since then, the house just onward grew
Meanwhile, I get ever old
I wonder how that rock is getting on
Out there in the cold

Now and then, I’ll hear a bit
Crackling through my radio
And though some seem to think that I’m long gone
It’s still there - that’s good to know

I do keep looking for it
It’s what I have to do
I’m forever hunting for that magic globe
But next time, I’ll just make stew