I’m drunk
Drunk as a skunk
In a black and white funk
A funk so aromatic
I spelunk in the trunk
On my way to my grave
Where I’ll land with a plunk
Funking away in the dirt still alert
People around
Above on the ground
Saying all the smart things
That they thought to have thunk
Like “remember that skunk in the trunk? How it stunk!
That little punk needed a deep cleaning dunk.”
And me? Well I just sunk
In my decomposed funk
Down in the ground not making a sound
As the worms ate my junk