Everything’s Turning To White
Late on a Friday, my husband went upTo the mountains with three friendsThey took provisions and bottles of bourbonTo last them all through the weekendOne hundred miles they droveJust to fish in a streamAnd there’s so much water, so close to home
When they arrived, it was cold and darkThey set up their camp quicklyWarmed up with whiskey, they walked to the riverWhere the water flowed past darklyIn the moonlight they saw the bodyOf a girl floating face downAnd there’s so much water, so close to home
When he holds me now, I’m pretendingI feel like I’m frozen insideAnd behind my eyes, my daily disguiseEverything’s turning to white
It was too hard to tell how long she’d been deadThe river was that close to freezingBut one thing for sureThe girl hadn’t died very well, to judge from the bruisingThey stood there above her all thinkingThe same thoughts at the same timeThere’s so much water, so close to home
So this is what they didThey carried her downstream from their fishingBetween two smooth rocks they gently wedged herAfter all, it was late, and they’d come a long wayThe girl would keep, she was going nowhereThey stayed up there fishing for two daysThey reported it on Sunday when they came back downThere’s so much water, so close to home
When he holds me now, I’m pretendingNothing is working insideAnd behind my eyes, my daily disguiseEverything’s turning to white
The newspapers said that the girl had been strangledTo death and also molestedOn the day of the funeral the radio reportedThat a young man had been arrestedI went to the service a strangerI drove past the lake out of townThere’s so much water, so close to home