Women Are Like Cars

Women and cars are similiar things,
Oh what joy both of then bring,
You can't wait to get one, so brand new,
And be really proud of the things it can do.
But that's when the problem arises,
And there are no more surprises,
You're bored now, you've seen it before,
You're tired of it, and now want more.
You crave for the next model up,
A prettier face and a larger bra cup,
You want something that's better and bigger,
A bronzed beauty with an hourglass figure,
Comes with central locking, and electric windows,
A nice tight ass and a perfectly striaght nose.
If you're proud of what you've got, you're a liar,
An outdated girl who provides the spare tyre,
Go above thirty, it starts to rattle,
To get your way, it's a long battle,
Your friends have a better set of wheels,
You feel hard done by, got a bad deal.
You want a car with metallic paint,
A girl who's a sinner, and also a saint,
A comfortable car with adjustable seats,
A goddess, from her head, down to her feet,
Oh so stylish, people turn their heads,
A superb cook, and talented in bed.
But wake up and realise that it's not to be,
Rub the sleep from your eyes, and smell the coffee
You may not have much, but you can at least grin,
At those less fortunate, who have a reliant robin.