I am the copilot, I sit on the right,
It’s up to me to be quick and bright;
I never talk back for I have regrets,
But I have to remember what the Captain forgets.
I make out the Flight Plan and study the weather,
Pull up the gear, stand by to feather;
Make out the mail forms and do the reporting,
And fly the old crate while the Captain is courting.
I take the readings, adjust the power,
Put on the heaters when we’re in a shower;
Tell him where we are on the darkest night,
And do all the bookwork without any light.
I call for my Captain and buy him cokes;
I always laugh at his corny jokes,
And once in awhile when is landings are rusty,
I always come through with, “By gosh it’s gusty!”
All in all I’m a general stooge,
As I sit on the right of the man I call “Scrooge”;
I guess you think that it is past understanding,
But maybe some day he will give me a landing.
1 thought on “The Copilot”
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