In a lackluster corner of olde St Lou, near the
   place where the aeroplanes park
There is a large montage of brick, wood, and stone that
   holds a dear place in each heart
Sometimes he's a boor, and he's crude, unkind -- but the
   first thing he usually recalls to mind
Are the cons that he's hosted from time to time:
   The Six Cons of Henry VIII

From midnight to dawn we have warbled in song, or as
   near as we cared to come to it
In the Tudor or St George rooms right down the hall from where
   all the odd artists types do it.
But this year in Gateway we played in the hallway
   competing with MUZAK and boozers:
The overhead speakers and the old barfly geezers who were
   thinking that we were all losers

Eleven was ancient, a long time ago, and the
   Toastmaster hailed from Britain
He once sold computers from DIGITAL until by the
   old SF bug he was bitten
Then he lived on the West Coast, a garrulous host with
   lots of tall tales and good times
And James, he still says it was due to a bet with some
   friends that he's now writing plot lines

Twelve is obscure, since few records survive, but it's
   sure that we all partied hard
And Fourteen was mem'rable because of the fact that the
   whole guest list came from the Wild Cards
Thirteen was the scene for the great David Brin, and by
   now Vic was MC for life
At Fifteen I drank and caroused and I grinned, and at
   dawn woke up one angry wife

At number sixteen, why, a wedding was held. Every-
   one had their best Star Fleet things on
The Captain and Chief Engineer said their piece, and the
   Best Man appeared to be Klingon
We filked and they wedded with the aid and abetment of the
   newsies from 4, 5, and 2
And the ale from Romulus some of us did have too much, and for
   days we regretted The Blue
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In a lackluster corner of olde St Lou, near the
   place where the aeroplanes park
There was a large montage of brick, wood, and stone, that
   held a dear place in each heart
And we now and then gather to fix in our minds those
   days that can still bring a tear to our eyes
And we lift up our glasses and toast at least six times
   To those cons of the edifice
   Soon to be under AirBus
   The Six Cons of Henry VIII