You shouldn't kiss guardrails Because they have chapped lips And the jagged edges Will slice your tongue Whenever you touch them
You shouldn't kiss guardrails Because metal on metal Isn't a forgiving sound But you already know that From when you had your first kiss And you were each wearing braces
You shouldn't kiss telephone poles Because they are sensitive And will bite your lip with an electric current But not in the way that you were hoping
And rear view mirrors aren't for decoration But you never bothered to look at them When you were desperately switching lanes And speedometers aren't for your entertainment But you always enjoyed watching the needle fluctuate As though your life depended on it (It did)
And the high beams of oncoming cars Aren't Christmas lights in restaurant windows And crashing through the windshields Won't bring you any closer To the apple pie the bakery down the street made That always reminded you of home
And even though you no longer recognize The town you grew up in Or the boy you fell in love with You shouldn't kiss guardrails Because they might kiss you back But not in the way that you were hoping.