Coyote

(album: I Also Want To Die In New Orleans - 2019)

You pointed out the fence, it was leaning towards the neighbor's house
The waterlogged firewood from the last few winters had become one with the fence
The mold holding it all together, the weight of the wood
The wind blowing in its direction
The rain pouring down the hill was too much for the fence
A few years earlier, I had an old tree chopped down
That was leaning towards the house to protect the roof and for firewood
And now I've got twenty yards of fence to rebuild

I started bringing the heavy wet logs into the back area
Into what I referred to as the Dungeon Area, two or so at a time
The doc said I need more exercises, I said, "What kind of exercises?"
She said, "It doesn't matter, any kind"
I figured I have to get some of it out of the way
To help whoever I'd hire to repair the fence
I was breaking out with sweat
When a neighbor appeared out of nowhere and said, "How's it going, neighbor?"
Why did he have to build a house on that empty lot
With tall oaks and pines and sequoias there?

Year after year, the grass would grow so tall and get so dry
That the property was a borderline fire hazard
I called a real estate agent and offered to buy that plot of land
But the owner never accepted my offer
I want to maintain my privacy, the house was so enchanting
Set back in all the trees I'd bought the house for curb appeal and seclusion
The signs on the street that said Deer Crossing

And I went out there one day and the trees in the lot were chopped down
Then I went out there another day and foundation was built
And now there's a house next door and a neighbor guy I never met
Until just now when he said, "Hey, how are you doing?"
I said, "I'm okay, thanks" and then I walked back into the Dungeon
I dropped the logs I was holding on the cement floor and closed the door behind me
I came back into the house through the Dungeon from another door into the kitchen
And said, "This is not how I wanted to spend my fucking day"

Drenched with sweat, I got an iced tea from the fridge
And walked up to the highest point in my yard
And sat in the sun next to my hot tub
To remind myself why I bought the home in the first place
I looked off at the pines off in the foothills and called my friend
She told me about a strange Chinese restaurant in North Canton, Ohio
A five year old girl was discovered in a freezer, murdered by her mother
Her mom got 22 years, the father of her child got a life sentence for influencing
And manipulating the mother into being the abusive mother she'd become
My friend also said a dead body was discovered on 8th Street in Massillon
Not far from my father's home

She said the police got a tip, found the body buried six feet deep (Six feet deep)
And they also discovered three neglected kids in the house
All of them under three years old (Under three years old)
Unaccompanied by adults and a neglected dog in the basement (In the basement)
I came back into the house and did what I came here to do
Dove into my 2017 expenses
You were watching news upstairs (You were watching news upstairs)
A coyote was walking around with a jar on his head, suffocating (With a jar on his head)
Someone had some footage of him roaming around (Roaming around)
The newscaster said (The newscaster said)
"Keep a lookout for him" but they estimated he had 48 hours to live (48 hours to live)

I can't take too much of the news anymore, political things are toxic enough
Then there's news of dead children, coyotes suffocating
And neglected dogs without food or water and basements
So we switched channels

There was a band on TV, I'd never seen them before
To my recollection, there were 12 people pushing buttons in stationary positions
The singer sounded like an even simpler Simple Minds, if that's possible
But I could pretty much watch anybody perform, to be honest

One of my favorite performers is Jimmy Swaggart
I could watch him sing gospels all day
But anyhow, after Psalm 4, the silver staff band
He said, "Please change this, I can't take it anymore, this sounds like Tears for Fears"

I thought about texting a friend about how depressed I was by this band
By I didn't feel like the back and forth that could potentially happen
At 51, you got to call your shots
On how your prioritize your time and your back and forths
Then I spent the day working, doing more things for my house
The neverending fix-up that my mom said I'll be working on until the day that I die
The Money Pit, is the chimney guy calling?
The first guy to ever enter my home to do repair on my house
It's always something, always

At 10 P.M., you said you smelled a skunk ("I smell a skunk")
And you were right, the odor got more intense
I took a piss outside to see if I could smell the skunk and I didn't
While I was taking a piss, I looked up at the moon
And my god it was beautiful (I looked up at the moon)
And it smelled like pine (Smelled like pine)
All my headaches went away for just that moment in time (Moment in time)
I came back inside and told you
I couldn't smell the skunk outside ("I can't smell the skunk outside")
But how powerful the scent was when I came back in through the dining room

I walked up into the master bedroom and the smell was even worse up there
You'd been on the internet researching and decided it was not a skunk
But a gas leak into the house that was going to explode
You said, "Put your jacket on fast and take a few things
And don't do anything to cause sparks"
I said, "I have nothing on me that would cause anything to make sparks"
You said it again, you said, "Don't do anything to make sparks"
I said, "I don't smoke cigarettes or have any matches
Or anything at all to make any fucking sparks"
You said, "Well, if you do have anything to make any kind of friction, it could cause sparks"
And at that point, I kept my mouth shut

I followed you along down the stairs
I said, "Whatever you need from me, whatever you need
Just let me know what you need"
We took the battery powered lantern from the porch
And I walked around the house and proved to you
That there are no gas lines coming into my home
I know this home like the back of my hand

You finally calmed down, and I was upset that we had missed Saturday Night Live
We came back in, and you told me
To look around the big old spooky house for the skunk
It was 1:30 in the morning, I said, "What the fuck am I going to do if I find a skunk?
I'm not a skunk catcher, you want me to go into the basement
And see if there's a skunk down there, that's where you think he is?
Sorry, but I wouldn't even know what to do if I cornered a skunk"

I said to you, "Look, here's the deal, we're leaving tomorrow
Who knows how long it's gonna be until we're back here?
The skunk is a welcome guest in my home
This is my home and I got taxes to work on
And I don't want to talk about the skunk anymore"
She said, "Calm down, Mark"
That you've been researching more and that skunks were foragers
And I said, "What does 'forager' mean?"
You said, "They don't stay in one spot long"
And I said, "Well there you go, he'll be gone within the next few days
Problem solved, the skunk problem is resolved"

We were exhausted, we considered leaving but it was late out there
We went to bed, the smell of skunk in the air
I was up until 3 o'clock in the morning, reading A Confederacy of Dunces
Tired of all the bickering we've been through
We tend to have this bickering way about us
On these fast "Quick, let's go check on the house" visits

I woke up at 6 o'clock in the morning
My heart was racing, I couldn't fall back asleep
So I woke you up and we walked into town
I got a bagel, you got an iced coffee and I got an iced tea
We came back and did the usual routines
Locked up the house, shut off the water
Left money for the maid, turned on the alarm system, and set the thermostat

And I took photos of the early blooming daffodils and sent them to my friend
I sat at the top of the hill again, taking in the sun again
And trying to remember why I ever bought this house in the first place again

A hummingbird was buzzing around me by the bamboo
Smoke was coming out of the chimneys
I don't understand myself
I spend the first 18 years of my life trying to get out of a 3 bedroom house
With a yard full of sticks and squirrels
And way later in life, I ended up buying a 3 bedroom house
With a yard full of sticks and squirrels
You were in the kitchen, dehydrating vegetables
With the dehydrator your father gave you

I walked down the hill, my back hurting, into the living room door
You said, "I'm done dehydrating vegetables, I'm packed and ready to go"
It was still the faint smell of skunk lingering in the house
It was Super Bowl Sunday and the traffic going back to San Francisco was hell
You dropped me off at my place, and I've known you long enough to know
That look on your face that says "I don't want to see you for a couple of days"
So I left you alone, cleaned my apartment, made my bed
Opened some windows, cleaned my hardwood floors
And I dumped the bag of 2017 paperwork on the living room floor
You sent me a text, "Yay, they rescued the coyote
And got the jar off his head, he survived"