The Silver Snail
lyics and melody by Catherine Faber 2014
mp3 and pdf sheet music
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There's a music convention in Dayton, the filkers are going to wail--
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I think I will start a week early, and ride up in the big Silver Snail
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Won't you join me to look out the window, and after the first afternoon,
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We'll tune up your flute, and my banjo, and repair to the music saloon.
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The Snail is a place to make music; there's always a space and a seat,
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People may jam in the hallways, yet you'll still find a quiet retreat.
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Today we've a a fife and a fiddle, a keyboard, a drum and a snare
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It isn't a fast way to travel but after a while you won't care.
The snail's always perfectly leveled, by gyroscopes kept in its head.
You barely can feel any motion from the thousands of tracks in its tread.
A snail with a height of five fathoms, made completely of clockwork and glass
That peacefully glides up the highway, ignoring the drivers who pass.
The seats aren't encumbered with armrests, the service is beautifully run:
The tables have plenty of napkins, and a pencil is laid by each one.
The pitchers have plenty of water, the sideboard has cookies, and tea,
The restrooms? They're just down the gangway, a little bit off to the lee.
There's a marvelous store in the middle, the tiniest curl of the shell.
With exactly the strings that you needed; the reeds and the tuners as well.
A tech is on duty to handle adjustments and minor repairs,
So your gear is in tip-top condition for the cons or the housefilks or fairs.
The bedrooms are tiny but quiet, and all the way up in the loft
The sheets are all lavender scented, the comforters cozy and soft,
We'll slumber like roses in moonlight, proceeding along without fail
Honestly, now I consider--we should just hold the Con in the Snail.