The Girl With The Snail On Her Head

There once was a girl with a snail on her head

She hated it so; she wished it was dead

It slowed down her walk and it messed up her hair

It scared off the men she so wished to snare

Then one day it spoke and she listened in shock

To tales of its birth in the Eastern Bloc

On hearing these stories of trips far and wide

She began to sport her old headpiece with pride

They talked day and night and skulked slowly through life

Travelling the world as snail man and wife.