← 05 Time Limits
05-40 · RECORD 4 OF 4
Squawk Sheet
A list of everything found wrong, set to music. Their last.
- 01Squawk3:31
- 02Gear-Up Landing (Statistically Inevitable)4:36
Lyrics (reference only)
Tuesday noon. Runway Three-Six. A Bonanza on its belly at Jabara. Both prop tips curled back. Belly skins ground through to the stringers. Pilot standing by the wing. "I put it down. I know I put it down." Airbags under the wings. Lift it off the concrete slow. Crank the gear down by hand. It goes down. It locks. Tow it home on its own three wheels. Nothing wrong with the gear. He asks me what he did. I tell him what he didn't. Gear-up landing! Statistically inevitable Those who have and those who will We jack it up, we hold it still Swing the gear and it comes down It always does, on the ground Twelve swings on the jacks, and the green light every time Pull the throttle back: the horn. I tried it twice. It's fine. A prop strike means the engine comes apart. That's the bulletin. Doesn't matter that it barely turned. The bulletin wins. He asks me what he did. I tell him what he didn't. Gear-up landing! Statistically inevitable Those who have and those who will We jack it up, we hold it still Swing the gear and it comes down It always does, on the ground The insurance man comes Thursday with a camera and a form. The pilot comes every day. He sits in the office. He drinks the coffee. On Friday he asks me if it could happen to anyone. I tell him there's a curve, and everyone is somewhere on it. Gear-up landing! Statistically inevitable Those who have and those who will We jack it up, we hold it still Swing the gear and it comes down It always does, on the ground The only pilot in this band flies fixed gear. We have never asked him why.
- 03Airworthy3:59
- 04Unairworthy4:53
Lyrics (reference only)
I torqued you to the spec, every fitting, every seam Ran you up at dawn and watched the needles hold their green I signed the logbook clean, I set you fit to fly And I handed you the sky Then the phone rang late, and I already knew Before they said a word, what a heavy hand can do Unairworthy now, your number's off the roll A hard hand at the yoke, and there's a hole where you were whole I gave you all my care, I signed you fit to fly They broke you in a moment, and they never wonder why Hangar rash and heavy landings, and a gear that never dropped Over-G'd in someone's showing off, a prop that hit and stopped I fixed you every time, I brought you back to new But there's damage down inside that even I can't undo Now the letter's in the file: beyond economic repair And the ones who bent your spine, they were never even there Unairworthy now, your number's off the roll A hard hand at the yoke, and there's a hole where you were whole I gave you all my care, I signed you fit to fly They broke you in a moment, and they never wonder why There is no turbulence Only insufficient understanding But understanding wouldn't have saved you From a hand that didn't care Unairworthy now, your number's off the roll A hard hand at the yoke, and there's a hole where you were whole I gave you all my care, I signed you fit to fly Airworthy once. Unairworthy now. Sign here.