Of course, I never do it

Roads in Britain have a speed limit of 70 miles per hour, though you’d never think it applied on motorways.

I’m cruising down the motorway, at spot-on seventy,
So why is all the other traffic overtaking me?
Where are the traffic cops? Now come on, all you chaps,
And nab those rascally drivers with your radar speeding traps!

I know my speed exactly, thanks to satellite technology.
And, though I am no expert in the field of criminology,
A law’s a law for everyone, with ignorance no defence,
And breaking one so blatantly is clearly an offence.

Of course, I never do it. Well . . . not for very long . . .
And surely just a short time over seventy’s not wrong?
(Oh dear, there goes my argument: duration matters not.
I have no leg to stand on. Arrest me on the spot.)

[Image: saga]
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