The Witch's Car

Once I had a little car, I loved her oh so much, But she was murdered by a man, Who drove a big Dodge truck. I looked around and finally found, A car to take her place. Who knew behind her pretty face, The engine'd been laid waste. She coughed and choked and gagged until, She spit up chunks of carbon. My husband bought her anyway, He said that could be pardoned. He said it was a minor thing, He'd fix it right away. It turned into a major bill, That wouldn't go away. It spent more time in the garage, Than it did on the road, And we were told to sell it soon, For soon we'd need it towed. Whoever'd worked under the hood, For certain must be manic, For from the looks of things in there, He was no mechanic. I felt so down, I'd spent so much, This thing could not be worse. I felt for sure that in this car, I drove under some curse. The ties broke as I drove it home. I went right in the ditch. I swear before we bought this car, It was owned by a witch.