A321
Tin can with wings you are
Sitting in 29D with fellow peasants
First class/business, coach, premium coach
Legal segregation in the friendly skies
Oh, how you love to pack us in like sardines
Like them, I get salty when I think about
How my boarding pass is always the last group
The crass troupe, the ass group
In a fast loop, we’ve all been mass duped
We never get other seating groups
How am I in an aisle seat but it still feels like I’m being crushed in the middle?
Little does anyone know, the toilet is broken and the last row is choking
On the smell of baby diapers and regret of not being able to afford a personal jet
The bathroom back here is occupied, how come I can’t use the one up there?
No one is using it. Are my ass cheeks too poor to sit on a communal throne for shared shitting?
Yes? Well. Well damn.
Ah, yes, little baby of recent amniotic escape fame, please don’t stop your demon shrieking.
Pay no attention to the rest of us with our eyes closed. We’re not trying to get some sleep, we’re dead. We died inside long before this flight. Your shrieks only make our ears bleed in pure bliss.
A321, why are your cupboards full of peanuts, pretzels, and cheese crackers?
I paid hundreds of dollars for a seat on this flight.
Least you could do is give me something more than some 50¢ snacks from the vending machine.
The incoming plane was late
We boarded the plane late.
We’ve been sitting on the tarmac for nearly an hour.
Now the pilot says we have to go back to the terminal for a maintenance check.
We will never see daybreak over bluegrass fields.
We will never see dawn in the Queen City.
Will we still be rotting away on the runway on New Year’s Day?
Thank God I have a 3-hour layover, but will that be enough now?
This guy just reclined his seat on my knee.
Excuse me while I choke him out. Any last words?
I keel you. I keel you.
A321, see what you turned me into.
Think Ink|Thinq Inq 