I’m on a plane, it’s going down
Don’t know the reason why.
On my face not smile nor frown
(Why won’t the damn thing fly?)
Can’t see outside, windows are fogged
No idea when we’ll smash.
I wished more of life I’d hogged
’Fore conversion into hash.
At eight hundred feet per sec
My end will come quite fast.
I wondered if at time of wreck
Would this thought be my last?