Microwave Slave

I thought I knew the way things work The twists and tweaks and all the quirks I thought I knew my way around At fifty three a man of town From my birth until my grave I cannot work my microwave I read that damn book upside down Inside out and round and round Things don't cook early Things don't cook late They just stay static on the plate They don't go up They don't go down Left or right or round and round Cook them once, cook them twice Plated meals are cold as ice One min, two min, even three The damn thing just won't work for me So I sit here and grow so thin Are you supposed to plug it in