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 doctor said I need more exercise
I said, "What kind of exercise?"
She said, "It doesn't matter, any kind"
I figure I'd have to get some of it out of the way
To help whoever I'd hire to repair the fence
I was breakin' out with sweat
When a neighbor appeared out of nowhere
And said, "How's it goin', 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 the curb appeal and seclusion
The signs on the street that said, "Deer Crossing"
Then I went out there one day
And the trees in the lot were chopped down
Then I went out there another day and the 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 turned my back on him and walked 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 of 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 the 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 (Buried six feet deep)
And they also discovered three neglected kids in that 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 in the house and did what I came here to do
Dove into my 2017 expenses
You were watchin' news upstairs
(You were watchin' the 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
Roamin' around (Roamin' 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
The political things are toxic enough
Then there's news of dead children, coyotes suffocating
And neglected dogs without food or water in basements
So we switched channels
There was a band on TV, I'd never seen them before
To my recollection, there were 12 people on stage
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 textin' 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 never=ending 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
Is always somethin', 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 takin' 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 and I told you
I couldn't smell the skunk outside ("I can't smell the skunk outside")
But how powerful the smell 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 any 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, I don't have matches
Or anything at all to cause anything to make any fucking sparks"
You said, "Well, if you do 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
There are no gas lines comin' 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 that big, old, spooky house for the skunk
It was 1:30 in the mornin'
I said, "What the fuck am I gonna do if I find a skunk?
I'm not a skunk catcher
You want me to go down 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 leavin' tomorrow
And who knows how long it's gonna be until we're back here?
The skunk was a welcome guest in my home
This is my home and I got taxes to work on
I don't want to talk about the skunk anymore"
You said, "Calm down, Mark"
That you'd been researching more and that skunks were foragers
And I said, "What does 'forager' mean?"
You said, "That means 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 with the smell of skunk in the air
I was up until three o'clock in the mornin'
Reading A Confederacy of Dunces
Tired of all the bickering we'd 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 six o'clock in the morning
My heart was racing, I couldn't fall back asleep
So I woke you up, we walked into town
I got a bagel, you got an iced coffee and I got an iced tea
We came back and I 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, takin' in the sun again
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 three-bedroom house
With a yard full of sticks and squirrels
Then, way later in life, I ended up buying a three-bedroom house
With a yard full of sticks and squirrels
You were in the kitchen, dehydratin' vegetables
With the dehydrator your father gave you

I walked back 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"
There was still the faint smell of skunk lingering in the house
It was Super Bowl Sunday
And the traffic goin' 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"