Did I ever tell you the story of the dead skunk on the road?
He was lying there on his left side, his mortal coil had shucked its load
Now, whenever I see road-kill, I'm always moved to ask
Who was it who done the dirty deed, who took this hideous task?
Was it an eighteen-wheeler culprit, or a jazzy sporty car
A local lad on the tear one night, or some tourist from afar
A lady of the blue-rinse kind in her big, blue Oldsmobile
Or a spunky lad in a cowboy hat and boots with four-inch heels
A shotgun laid back in his cab, a six-pack in his lap
And his girlfriend there upon his knee with willing ways on tap
Or was it a German tourist, or someone from Japan
Wiping out the wildlife in their rented caravan
Oh well, the miles are far behind and, just between me and you,
I couldn't care less who run it down, it'll still make good bar-b-que!!
Leighton B Watts