Sing to the tune of Last Christmas
In the heart of the Great White North, where the pines embrace, A station attendant, with a smile on his face. Three and a half decades, beneath the northern lights, This Christmas, his last, as he bids farewell to the flights.
Last Christmas in the terminal, by the gate, With laughter and stories, he’ll celebrate. Through ice storms and sunsets, through joy and through tears, He’s woven a tapestry of forty Canadian years.
From the Rockies to the Maritimes, in the windswept prairies, He’s navigated the tarmac, through all the uncertainties. Friendships like maple leaves, golden and bold, In the frosty Canadian air, stories were told.
Last Christmas on the runway, where the jet engines roar, With colleagues and comrades, who’ve become so much more. He’ll miss the snow-covered wings, the northern frontier, As he takes off his badge, with a nostalgic tear.
Through the blizzards and summers, he stood by their side, An airline family, where connections abide. The hum of the engines, the jet fuel perfume, His heart is a cockpit, ready to zoom.
The de-icing trucks spray a farewell salute, To a man of the skies, in a tailored blue suit. The mountains may echo with the engines’ refrain, But in retirement, new horizons he’ll gain.
Last Christmas on the apron, where the wind bites the skin, He’ll miss the jet bridges, the places he’s been. Yet, in the warmth of memories, he’ll find solace and cheer, For the journey continues, beyond the atmosphere.
So here’s to the station attendant, with a heart that’s aglow, In the spirit of Christmas, it’s time to let go. To new skies and adventures, with a fondness so clear, Happy retirement, dear friend, and a Happy New Year.
