The Nose Cone Ain't a Loading

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[Verse 1] Marcus Wood wore a badge that said “expert” in bold, Talked aerostats like a ranch hand talks cattle sold. He checked every gauge with a serious face, Then steered that big balloon straight into the nose cone’s space. [Pre-Chorus] He said, “I meant to do that,” while the warning lights shone, But the dent on the nose cone had a mind of its own. [Chorus] Hey Marcus, what were you thinking up there? You parked an aerostat like a lawn chair. With all that expertise and your clipboard in tow, You made a rookie mistake at the front of the show. Was it coffee in your cup, or something stronger by far? Were you sober that morning when you bumped that bar? Hey Marcus, next time check where you go— The nose cone ain’t a loading zone. [Verse 2] He blamed the wind, then the clouds, then a loose radio wire, Said the whole atmosphere had conspired to conspire. The crew stood silent, trying hard not to grin, While Marcus explained how the crash was a win. [Pre-Chorus] He said, “No real damage, just a cosmetic surprise,” As a little blue smoke rolled up toward the skies. [Chorus] Hey Marcus, what were you thinking up there? You parked an aerostat like a lawn chair. With all that expertise and your clipboard in tow, You made a rookie mistake at the front of the show. Was it coffee in your cup, or something stronger by far? Were you sober that morning when you bumped that bar? Hey Marcus, next time check where you go— The nose cone ain’t a loading zone. [Bridge] Now the coffee pot’s labeled, “One cup per man,” And somebody taped a map right onto his hand. He still calls himself captain of the floating parade, But the nose cone gets nervous whenever he’s on duty late. [Final Chorus] Hey Marcus, keep your expert hat on tight, Leave the aerostat parked till you’re seeing straight right. No more rookie maneuvers, no more “watch this” show, No more kissing metal with the nose cone below. Was it coffee in your cup, or something stronger by far? Did breakfast come with bourbon in a travel jar? Hey Marcus, everybody now knows— The nose cone ain’t a loading zone. [Outro] He’s an expert, they say, and he’ll tell you so— Just don’t let him steer near the nose cone.