Halestorm, Coltrane Thoughts With A Red Hot Chaser

Found a girl bad for my health    
rock  
sleaze  
sex appeal  
dripping from the tip of her waxed fingers    
 stinging burn from a    
raging flame    
the same that mesmerises the moth    
the way it would bash head first into a light globe    
tink, tink, tink    
futility and headaches all round    
   
I raise my glass to the stupid fucker    
   
thinking about the amount of windshields I’ve run into
and that old joke crops up    
   
what’s the last thing to go through    
a bugs mind when it hits your windshield...?    
it’s ass....    
   
smirking a little I think about how full of shit I am    
giggle at the aptness of comparison    
think about the language my brain uses to    
talk to itself    
the ego    
super ego    
the Id    
all at war to the point I don’t know what I want    
except the drinks I have lined up to try and    
muffle the sound of stupid as it echoes off of the great cavern that is my head-space    
   
thought up more shit than I’ve forgot    
but forgot to write it down for you    
or for me    
can’t figure out who I was doing it for
 
maybe somewhere there was a
both of us    
probably still is    
   
it’s just like that bug now    
a smear on the windshield    
right in the eye-line    
of a frantic driver    
desperately trying to pull the water spray lever    
wash what’s left away with    
sweeping blades