Maintenance Lyrics - Aesop Rock

[Aesop Rock] 

Count that for me... thanks 

[Robotic voice] 4x 

One, two, one, two, three, four 

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[Aesop Rock] 

Well any asshole with a book of matches can light a fire fresh 

Make that sucker burn for days, I'll be impressed 

surf n' abash the cultured bigot, procreation baked in fanciful 

Then scurry up the grass to roll his marbles off the anthill 

I know girth and good nature but recognize absentee ballots 

and sappy ballads couldn't fill the void 

it's James and the giant Tugboat Complex and HE'S ANNOYED! 

(No one's asking you to build an Ark, brother!) 

Hmm, it's fashion 

I'll find my own bullies to shake a finger wrapped in 

Realigned mine eyes in divine justice 

Plus this uncontrollable laugh with those amber waves of brain finally crash 

Brimstone clone with legs and dim poems 

Ten little Zen crafts 

Things cooperate like paper doll participant litigants 

Picket well or ride a burner style clinic 

Acid for the basics 

P-H imbalance to burn the malice martyrs faceless 

Then fabricate daytrips 

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 pageant 

Starfighter settling to madness 

I keep my ghoul spirit concealed 

Until the warriors return to the Coney Isle Wonder Wheel 

Photos 

[Chorus] 4x 

My momma told me there'd be days like this 

Days like this, days like this, days like this (yes she did) 

[Robotic voice] 4x 

One, two, one, two, three, four 

[Aesop Rock] 

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 boulevards of maintenance 

To sweep your broken hopes under the rug then hug the playpen 

This revolution pushing through the loose pins 

and a strait-jacketed 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 deviltry 

The clear day's laced with a classic mother nature thunderchaser set 

That got my paper crane's wings wet 

Voyeurist amendments lacked expansive coverage in the syllabus 

I dance with chuckles while you man the keyhole grilling post 

I've done my chores according to God's schedule 

With coffee holding the wheel and nicotine working the pedals 

Metal edged canes that tends to repel the bevel 

Kettle screeching out the operetta 

I live to autograph the iron curtain with dove's back feather pens 

Spurting magma, cursing television earns the burdens of my Cleopatra 

Minor (Major) dispersed slap on the wrist 

For the tenants lacking arms to harbor the rarity of thick friendship 

Sunk with a "Yes sir" 

Chained to fatigued ankle 

leagues beneath the angle 

I'ma call home until the rock meets the angels 

Chorus 4x 

[Robotic voice] *repeat to fade* 

One, two, one, two, three, four