Flick of a Switch by heyday

How can it be that a woman can turn her love off at the flick of a switch?

To look you in the eye as they crumple you with nary a flinch?

Never once looking back after leaving you discarded in the ditch,

Is it programmed in them purposely, or is it a glitch?

One morning you are a man of whom they are so very proud

the next day your history, no discussion allowed

and though they berate you soundly before any crowd

any defense by you wont be heard, no matter how loud.

Discarded like yesterdays news without any reason

it will most assuredly be you guilty of the treason

even as she enjoys the warmth of doing what she see's pleasin'

running you down all the time you are out in the cold freezin

But, yet, a woman's love is such a wonderful commodity

which she shows in ways of the most pleasurable variety

if it wasn't that hanging on to it was such a unique oddity

a woman might become a part of civilized society

But, alas, she's the jungle of her own world

one which a man will soon be hurled

no reason needed for battle flags unfurled

maybe it's just the way she hated the way her hair curled.

Oh, I know this poem is satirical in nature

but it contains truth about that woman creature

they have no tolerance seems to be a common feature

condemning any man, whether he be athiest or holiest preacher