[Intro]
This is Miss Gourmand on a hard day
Followed by a volley of remarks at a soiree
This a gaunt mare dark as a mare
Turn a fruity restaurateur to a parfait

[Verse 1]
Bringing ponies up into the real world
Tripe think bribery’s enough, get a deal spurned
Somehow still on her walkabout civic
Find any mare of principles is not without critics
And on the daily a quite high-end trendsetter
Surprises and pries at the minds of the unlettered
Maybe making news, ha, creating vacancies too
Til dressmaker out souring her place and repute
Take days to refute, Zesty Gourmand paves way to the truth
A gossipmonger and a head chef stay in cahoots
Amid a carnival involving one waiter and soup
They made a brazen refusal to change, staying astute
Pain is acute, on to the next ask,
But now Zesty gets no love from a Press Pass
Now the hoi polloi’s questions can trespass
Into her domain to profane what she’s best at

[Hook]
Cross lines and become unparalleled
Pick a perfect demeanor, wear it well
And if contestants impress them with refills
Tyranny’s the ultimate expression of free will
Bends in the zeitgeist need to get straightened out,
Volunteer’s out saving the town for the right types
Except now a critic is cursed to mind business
And spit on for thanks, she’s certain we’re quite finished

[Verse 2]
Cuisine Queen was retesting them, greyfaced
Earth ponies used to get impressed when she name spades
Now she’s passed up by eight papers, mayday
Safe saying ways to lay waste have been waylaid
Other tastemakers tarnishing her work
Social ladder climb up to an astonishing reverse
If variety is garden in the dirt
Won’t sacrifice, flying at propriety for pardons is perverse
Talent’s correlated to the difficulty of the action being discussed, past how it seems to rebut
Any of the things that she’s been saying, classic seasoning stuff can only meet her disgust, pony teeters in rough - spots
Cop rumors on failed work and love lost
A gastronomical suite comes with one cost
She made and ended careers with a word
Smiles, looks back on the days when the meals were reserved

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Every mare is an island, she’ll sit afloat
If you hate food so much then consider oats
Take a three course meal afterward emit a quote
Ending bouquet is way too strong for a bitter note
Most ponies know the words, not the meanings.
And what’s bad in a fall’s all the worse in redeeming
And a doctrinaire mare speaks deeper language
Only got a rare stare if they see her naked
Niche views, thinks she should dive face-first
Everypony screams the opposite, so why hate her?
By now old work becomes a hobby on request
The mare’s only nurturing a body with the best
As the rest could’ve said she comes up du jour
Culinary hangers-on can become inured
And now the publication’s gone, need to cut subversives
Off and curtain, calling her flawless must be worth it