The captain's seat was made of peat -
The slats were tied with string;
They'd patched the hatch with heaps of thatch,
And crazy-glued the wing.
The rudders slipped and slowly dipped -
The gas had drained and dried;
The landing gear was nowhere near,
But sadly lay beside.
The cabin cracked, bizarrely packed
With fuzzy lumps of fluff.
He scratched his head and slowly said:
'I guess it's... good enough.'