The odd psychology of some satellite navigation systems or what makes it tick

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I have a little Satnav
It sits there in my car
A Satnav is a driver’s friend
It tells you where you are.

I have a little Satnav
I’ve had it most my life
It’s better than the normal ones
‘Cos my Satnav is my wife.

It gives me full instructions
Especially on how to drive
“It’s thirty miles-an-hour”, it says
“You’re doing thirty-five.”

It tells me when to stop and start
And when to use the brake
And tells me that it’s never ever
Safe to overtake.

It tells me when a light is red
And when it goes to green
It seems to know instinctively
Just when to intervene.

It lists the vehicles just in front
And all those to the rear
And taking this into account
It even specifies my gear.

I’m sure no other driver
Has so helpful a device
For when we leave and lock the car
It still gives its advice.

It fills me up with counselling
Each journey’s pretty fraught
So why don’t I exchange it
And get a quieter sort?

Ah well, you see, it cleans the house,
Makes sure I’m always fed,
It washes all my shirts and things
And keeps me warm in bed!

Despite all these advantages
And my tendency to scoff,
I only wish that now and then
I could turn the bugger off!   

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