It’s Just So

Oh, heh, yeah, it was that
The skunk one's at the bottom
of the nation's icebox,
Miss America in black and white
but behind the sliding door
The door I opened without knowing
Bags and bags and bags and bags and bags and bags
All the birds let loose to fly
Dumbfounded
Every day every night every hour of light
Little girl Westerns and Fox News disturbances
The colors don't matter, not really, they're just
Skunk smells; permeates; everywhere propane
It hardens what once was soft
It disinfects the blood down the slope
The shovel plugs, the earth cinched
Bags and bags and bags and bags and bags and bags
Behind the seat, at the back, off the side, underground
Everywhere nowhere elsewhere forever
Dark cloud proceeding, raspberry dreams
Never gonna blow never gonna crack
Never gonna could do the hurt you
As the hurt was everything
I want to be on the inside, always on the inside
Where love is heartbreak, joy is pain
Dear father, I write you in the interminable nothing
You've died, corroded, battery crusted over
Things are good, I guess, but
I've always been good, just not left-handed
Heineken Svedka Pyotr's domesticated skunk
It doesn't matter when it is in the
Bags and bags and bags and bags and bags
and bags and bags and bags and
The march has happened, it's underway
I'm dry as a bone, but the son is drowning
In the liquid skunk, all the skunk
The stench of disgust, repulsion,
The stench of my love 
Everything soft is hard now and ready
Eruption, ash, darkness, blow blow blow
Make it like home, the bottom, at the bottom
It's ready to come, all over you
All over everything, drowning
Looking up to see the wavy face,
the one that'd know, wouldn't she
Dry as a bone I'm drowning
I can see the skeleton now above the field
It was you, the demon in my view
In the beloved skunk
Will it ever be done?
I will, the end will, the only will
Is now the same