Dispatcher Man

He sits behind a desk With a map and a mic And no one person in sight.

With magnets for machines Placed here and there He knows you are down there somewhere.

He is only heard and not seen.

He may sound mean Or even mad.

But when we make it out He’s really glad.

So, when you holler, and no answer is heard Just take five and wait for the word.

He’ll tell you to go and then to wait And holler at you, And tell you your late.

With nerves of steel And patience worn thin I wouldn’t want the position he’s in.

I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Hey Dispatcher Man Please check me in.

-Dave “Shorty” Short