There was a challenge going around to write 500 words a day, or in 5 days, or something in notes and I wanted to write a story, but I also wanted it to rhyme, so I wrote this. It ended up being too long and not everybody read it so I put it to music as a Celtic folk song. Enjoy.
Lyrics
[intro] Now here's one for you 'bout a snail named Steve And a storm in the valley you’d scarcely believe It's a tale of adventure, and danger and choice Will you cry at the end? Or will you rejoice? [verse 1] Well our story begins in a town out West The sun was shining, or 'twas trying its best 'Cause a dark cloud loomed out on the horizon And the wind picked up sending leaves up a flyin Steve was humming with a spring in his creep Rummaging through all the fallen leaves When the first big drop plopped down on his shell Another, and another, another! "Aw hell." He made for the base of a solid old tree But the rain poured down and the leaves broke free. Steve was swept away and was sure he would drown But he splashed onto the walk where the rain drained down Then a shadow flew over, a great black crow Swooping and diving and circling slow Steve crawled forward to a joint in the slab Where a crack in the concrete might give him a chance [chorus] Crawl on little snail Even though Death is hot on your tail His beak is sharp and his wings are black Better keep moving or you'll be his snack [verse 2] The black bird landed, a caw on his breath. And with that he croaked, "My name is Death." And the snail? He smiled. "Hi Death, I'm Steve. If you don't mind, I was just about to leave." He broke into a lurch, his wide foot too slow. And the crow cackled out, "There's nowhere to go. You can slide and creep, but you'll never get far." I'm here to collect, this is your final hour. Well the wind blew hard and the rain turned to sleet And a river ran wild down that cobbled old street The waters rose and the storm drains belched And mud bubbled up and roiled and squelched It's the end of your time my small slimy friend Death always gets his lunch in the end Come with me now and depart in peace Or brave the waters and feel my talons dig deep [chorus] Crawl on little snail Even though Death is hot on your tail His beak is sharp and his wings are black Better keep moving or you'll be his snack [verse 3] Steve inched to the edge as he shivered with cold He swiveled his eyestalks and cried out bold "Thank you kind Death, peace sounds real nice, but I've come this far, so I'll roll the dice." And with that he plunged, tucked tight in his shell. And the current took and tossed him pell-mell He swirled and swirled but eventually stuck His foot snatched a log, his daring brought luck He crawled up and looked back, the crow was a fluster He took to the sky, and with all Steve could muster he shouted, "So long Death, farewell and adieu! I've got places to go and things to do." The crow swooped down and snapped with his beak He raked his talons but flew off with a sweep. "Gloat not little snail, this isn't goodbye." "You know in the end—yes, all things must die." [chorus] Crawl on little snail Even though Death is hot on your tail His beak is sharp and his wings are black Better keep moving or you'll be his snack [outro] So when the weather is rough, and the trail looks steep And that crow offers comfort in the long dark sleep I hope you'll remember our dear friend Steve And this tale of a snail with the courage to be.
