Roadkill Maintenance Man - Jim Morris

Now he got stabbed by the biggest knife

I think I’ve ever seen in my life

Lying by the side of the road in a pool of blood

A big ol’semi came along

Ran over his head, now half his face is gone

The poor old corpse got squashed and buried in the mud

Three or four hot August days go by

And some buzzards come down from the sky

And begin to eat his nose and pick his bones

Now I’m a pro, but I’d be remiss

Not to feel remorse when people die like this

But why’d the bossman send me out here alone

And I don’t want to be any roadkill maintenance man

Just spending my days in some buzzard’s fantasyland

I’d rather do the evening news and make about a hundred grand

No, I don’t want to be any roadkill maintenance man

I should have given more thought to medical school

Or corporate law or something equally cool

I’m up to my ears in lizards and gizzards and bones

And you know it’s really hard to impress the girls

When your job consists of scrapping up squirrels

And you know they pay people to pretend they’re

Having sex with Sharon Stone

Now how do you get that job?

And I don’t want to be any roadkill maintenance man

Spending my days in some buzzard’s fantasyland

I’d rather be a porno star, getting laid whenever I can

No, I don’t want to be any roadkill maintenance

Don’t want to be any roadkill maintainance

No, I don’t want to be any roadkill maintenance man

No sir, not me