Count that for me, thanks

One, two, one, two, three, four
One, two, one, two, three, four
One, two, one, two, three, four
One, two, one, two, three, four

Well any asshole with a book of matches can light a fire fresh
Make that sucker burn for days, I'll be impressed
Circlin' past the culture's bigot, procreation baked in advance-able
Then ball and scurry up the grass to roll his marbles off the anthill
I know gerth and nature but recognize absentee ballot
And sappy ballads couldn't fill the void
This game's in the giant Tugboat Complex and HE'S ANNOYED!
(No one's asking you to feel the narc, brother!)
Hmm, it's fashion
I'll find my own bullies to shake a finger wrapped in
Realigned mine knives in divine justice
Plus this uncontrollable laugh with those ample waves of brain finally crash
Brimstone clone with legs and dim poems
Ten little Zen crafts
Things cooperate like paper dog participants litigans
Picket well or ride or burner style clinic
Acid with the basics
P-H imbalance to burn the malice martyrs space-less
Then fabricate day trips
I want to be the halo that jumps off the brain
Of the genius who decided some pictures deserved frames
(God and I are on a first name basis)
Yeah I call him God, he calls me Jesus
When I lost my religion, he fell to pieces
Blade, dragon, up hell's creek
Interrupting a devil pagent
Starfighter settling to madness
I keep my ghoul spirit concealed
Until the warriors return to the Coney Isle Wonder Wheel

My momma told me there'd be days like this
Days like this, days like this, days like this (yes she did)

My momma told me there'd be days like this
Days like this, days like this, days like this (yes she did)

My momma told me there'd be days like this
Days like this, days like this, days like this (yes she did)

My momma told me there'd be days like this
Days like this, days like this, days like this (yes she did)

One, two, one, two, three, four
One, two, one, two, three, four
One, two, one, two, three, four
One, two, one, two, three, four

Okay, tell me who you chill with and I'll tell you who you are
I walk a mile with a leash attached to your freak seminar
It's a modern sensation on the boulevard of maintenance
To sweep your broken hopes under the rugs then hug the playpen
This revolution pushing through the loose pins and a strait jacket
A maverick classed in a bunk category
They had him parallel with a tattered glory division
(I could devil drink dreams out of thermos)
Yeah, with a whiskey afterburn
It's like, nine o'clock wake (I'm up) spit obscenities
My girl ties on my cape, smoke a bone then work my dental tree
The clear day's laced with a classic mother nature thunderchaser set
That got my papergrain's wings wet
Voyeurist amendments lack expansive coverage in the syllabus
I dance with shuckles while you man the keyhole grilling code
I've done my chores according to God's schedule
With coffee holding the wheel and nicotine working the pedals
Metal edge kings that tends to rapel the pebble
Kettle screeching out the operetta
I live to autograph the iron curtain with doveback feather pens
Spurting magma, cursing television urns to burn until my Cleopatra
Minor (Major) dispersed slap on the wrist
For the tennants lacking the arms to harbor the rarity of thick friendship
Stuck with a "Yes sir"
Change of fatigue to ankle
Each beneath the angle
I'ma call home until the rock meets the angels

My momma told me there'd be days like this
Days like this, days like this, days like this (yes she did)

My momma told me there'd be days like this
Days like this, days like this, days like this (yes she did)

My momma told me there'd be days like this
Days like this, days like this, days like this (yes she did)

My momma told me there'd be days like this
Days like this, days like this, days like this (yes she did)

One, two, one, two, three, four


Lyrics submitted by Ice

Maintenance Lyrics as written by

Lyrics © Songtrust Ave

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Maintenance song meanings
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4 Comments

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  • +1
    General Comment

    My version of the song actually has the "bonus" cut into a seperate track so I don't have the 20mins of robot voice (damn).

    The bonus track at the end is a personal story of AR's battle with depression which left him pretty screwed until he overcame it with the help of his friends, the four, each contributing something to his recovery. He also became agoraphobic. hence the line about walking to the bodega for cigarettes almost causing him to faint.

    It's a true story: He talks briedly about it on the Revenge of the Robots DVD and you can see how screwed up it made him.

    It's an intensely personal song hence why he does it under his real name, thanking those that really may have saved his life. I always wonder if, in hindsight, he ever regretted opening up so publicly but this is probably one of my 5 favourite AR songs. I know a little where he's coming from and it's amazing to hear AR put into words the way you can get consumed without a hand to pull you out.

    MyCsPiTTaon February 01, 2008   Link
  • 0
    General Comment

    This song is insanely long, almost 20 minutes of the whole robotic thing. Pretty random.

    nigerian walruson July 05, 2007   Link
  • 0
    General Comment

    its sounds like he's saying "no ones asking you to build an ark brother"

    Hipno702on January 06, 2011   Link
  • 0
    Lyric Correction

    This JAMES and the Giant Tugboat Complex and he's annoyed

    rosekingwinson January 16, 2011   Link

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