Travelling First Without Class Poem by Alan Bruce Thompson

I push to the front of the line and tell my friends to join me,
It has taken years of advantage-taking to become so pushy.

The others are too soft or too polite to complain at what I do,
These weak-kneed citizens should part to let me through.

I've twice as many bags as the rest, as is my natural right,
We've no place for your luggage, just take it out of sight.

I push to be first on board, move baby out of my way,
I don't care if your ticket's for the front, it's my seat today.

Just as I was first on, I must be first off too,
What are you doing in my place anyway? There's no place for you.

What do you mean this is Zagreb? to Zurich was my flight.,
You mean I pushed right past my plane, and there's no other one tonight?