Head on Collision

lately, i've been chewing on bullets.
too tough to care about any finger that goes
waggin' in my direction.
i can drown out the sound of a howitzer
with the music in my head,
let alone some disapproving soul's, "Tisk, tisk, tisk." 

and i ain't afraid to kill again.

some people get along through life, just fine,
like a straight line.
they move forward by the book, just like the text inside it.
it's true, straight lines survive the longest
and they live the healthiest lives...


of course... 

they get in a wreck
with a curvy bastard like me.