My washing machine's a liar

It is so sophisticated,

And with the way it carries on

I'm becoming agitated.

 

I had to let the old one go,

It had served me faithfully

For more than twenty years

In its sweet simplicity.

 

It didn't have to tell me

How long that it would take

To do some very minor tasks,

It didn't make me shake

 

With apprehension while I waited

For it to do its job,

but the high and mighty new one

Makes me feel just like a slob.

 

It wants to know which wash I'd like -

Fast or slow, hot , warm or cold,

I'd really like to punish it,

How dare it be so bold?

 

It tells me whn it's ready,

It will be just one more minute;

I'd like to believe it,

Well, it really is the limit.

 

I stand and count the seconds,

The minute now has passed,

But the machine just keeps on going

While I'm waiting, till at last

 

It stops its angry rumbling,

Just as well, I'd like to thump it.

Even though now it is quiet,

But that could cause a problem

And most likely it would riot.