Shamelessly stolen from the internet

When Lindburgh flew the ocean, He didn't have much gear,

With pants seat navigation, he did it all by ear,
And when he got to Paris, they almost had a stroke,
To think he'd flown the ocean on a sandwich and a coke!

To-day our hero pilot, barely makes it to the plane,
Disordered his attire, bewildered is his brain,
He staggers cross the flying field, you think it's cos he's drunk
It's only that he loaded down with calibrated junk!

His ship may be a Mooney mite, or just a J3 Cub,
But he's gotta own an auto-flight or he can't join the club,
He overloads that little craft, never feels remorse,
Got a million dollars worth of gear and he still can't fly on course!

 His visual navigation system, cost a hundred grand,
He still can't figure where he is, or where he's gonna land
He buys an E6B computer, and the answer seems quite sound,
Except his figures tell him, he's two miles underground!

 He's got have his VME, or he can't fly at all
And ADF equipment to keep him on the ball,
Now you add a few transmitters and some radar eyes around,
That poor beleaguered aircraft, just can't get off the ground.

 Yes, Lindburgh was a hero, of that there is no doubt,
He knew without our modern aids, just where he was about,
But the modern aviator is a very special guy,
Despite the mess of gook 'n gear, he manages to fly




So much of this rings true for me, Especially the dodgy answers from the E6b :)