Little mechanical men come out of the woodwork of my house
While I'm sound asleep at night,
Repairing anything that breaks.
They're always gone by the first morning light.

I've never actually seen them or heard them
But I can tell they exist because when I get up
Watches that I know were broken
Suddenly start ticking again.

Disconnected wireless networks are magically recalibrated.
Empty printer cartridges have been replaced.
Dead batteries in TV remotes and smoke detectors
Have all been somehow recharged or changed.

Whenever I need air filters cleaned
Or new water filters installed,
The home computer summons the little mechanical men
And overnight, they work their magic.

They screw in light bulbs, fix flats,
Change the oil and the oil filters in the car,
Replace snapped washing machine belts,
Change blown fuses in the electric panels.

As soon as a drain gets stopped up,
The lawn mower blades need sharpening,
A button goes dead on a radio or cd player
Or a fawcet starts to drip,

The computer summons the little mechanical men.
They come equipped with their own tiny socket wrenches
And screwdrivers, soldering guns, drills;
Even needle-nose pliers.

Here and there they leave behind a spare nut
Or a bolt, a screw or an odd nail.
They use up cans of oil and take batteries they need.
That's how I know they're real.

Sometimes I wonder where they came from.
But I don't know what I would do without them.