Here's something that might help you authors with your future writing projects — I discovered on Sunday that the back seat of a police cruiser is a LOT less comfortable than you'd assume.
"Her daddy got a big aeroplane,
Her mommy holds all the family cash,
A beautiful blows, I stay at the corner,
She is living in and out of tune.
Hey you,
You're losing, you're losing, you're losing, you're losing your vitamin C.
Hey you,
You're losing, you're losing, you're losing, you're losing your vitamin C,
Your vitamin C.
And at Christmas riding on her pony
Or she is stepping on the pigman's head,
Just going to leave a link to a vulgarity-laced but very insightful rant on the biomechanics of horses. It's up to you how much of this applies to little ponies, but the evolutionarily imposed anxiety certainly explains a few things.
"On a dilemma between what I need and what I just want
Between your thighs I feel a sensation
How long can I resist the temptation?
I've got my bird, you've got your man
So who else do we need, really?
Now I'm here, I may as well put my other hand in yours
While we decide how far to go and if we've got time to do it now
And if it's half as good for you as it is for me