Utopia. My motorway is ... With an enforced fifty limit, and what is even more ... Is there are speed traps in it, Still I use the extra petrol, Paying more tax as a result, Vainly seek
Utopia.
My motorway is crumbling, With an enforced fifty limit, and what is even more humbling, Is there are speed traps in it, Still I use the extra petrol, Paying more tax as a result, Vainly seeking for a reason, Behind the latest congestion fault, Taking solace from my car, As it could have been the train, Better to just be delayed, Than never be seen again, And stagger home as ever late, To find a letter in the hall, From a burglar who is suing me, Over a dangerous interior wall, That coupled with the TVs weight, Caused serious damage to his spine, So he cant get out now to burgle, And its not his fault its mine, At least he hasnt claimed at all Loss of earnings to be backdated, But before I reply to him, I have to have it all translated, As he is not from these shores, But just resident for a while, So as they wont deport him, I have to pay up and smile, Luckily I may also pay myself, From what I have been reading, As as a victim of a burglary, Im entitled to money from my speeding, When caught recently at midnight, Doing twenty in a fifteen zone, Coming up my private driveway, TO the entrance of my home.
