Pink hair, bad temper

PINK HAIR, BAD IDEA

[Intro — spoken over a dirty guitar riff]

Oh, you think I'm too much?

Cute.

[Verse 1]

I got pink hair, black boots,
And a mouth that knows the truth.
Got ten things going, nine ain't done,
But somehow I'm still getting shit done.

I can change a tire in a damn good dress,
Turn a total disaster into “good enough, I guess.”
You can tell me I can't—
Hell, go ahead.

Nothing gets me motivated
Like somebody running their mouth instead.

[Pre-Chorus]

I've been underestimated,
Overloaded, overlooked.
But if you're waiting for me to fold—

Baby, you misread the book.

[CHORUS]

I'm pink hair and a bad idea,
A little too loud and I like it here.
Got a smart-ass mouth and a stubborn streak,
And zero interest in playing sweet.

I don't need saving,
I need you outta my way.
I've survived worse shit
Than you're bringing today.

Call me difficult.
Call me insane.

I've been called worse
By people I wouldn't call by name.

I'm pink hair and a bad idea—

Go ahead.
Try me.

[Verse 2]

I've got kids yelling “Mom!”
Dogs raising hell.
Laundry multiplying
Like some kind of spell.

There's probably something in the dishwasher
That ain't been clean since June,
And I'll start another business
'fore I finish cleaning this room.

Got cups on the table,
New ideas in my phone,
And if I don't know how to do it—

Give me twenty minutes alone.

I'll Google it, build it,
Break it, cuss twice.

Then fix the damn thing
And pretend I knew the whole time.

[Pre-Chorus]

I don't have my shit together.

Never said I did.

But somehow everybody comes looking for me
When theirs goes to shit.

[CHORUS]

I'm pink hair and a bad idea,
A little too loud and I like it here.
Got a smart-ass mouth and a stubborn streak,
And zero interest in playing sweet.

I don't need saving,
I need you outta my way.
I've survived worse shit
Than you're bringing today.

Call me difficult.
Call me insane.

I've been called worse
By people I wouldn't call by name.

I'm pink hair and a bad idea—

And I'm still standing here.

[Bridge — music drops low]

See, here's the thing...

You mistook kindness
For weakness.

You mistook patience
For permission.

And you mistook me being quiet
For me not paying attention.

Guitar starts building.

That's adorable.

Because I saw it.

I heard it.

I just hadn't decided
you were worth the argument yet.

[BREAKDOWN]

But now?

Turn it up.

[FINAL CHORUS — full scream/sing energy]

I'm pink hair and a BAD IDEA,
Built from every damn year
That should've put me underground—

BUT LOOK WHO'S STILL HERE.

I'm messy.
I'm stubborn.
I'm beautifully loud.

I don't need your permission
To take up space in this crowd.

I've got kids watching Mama
Turn nothing into gold.

So if life's coming back for another round—

Tell that bitch I'm home.

I bend.

I break.

I lose my damn mind.

Then pick up the pieces
And build something twice the size.

I'm pink hair,
Bad temper,
Big heart,
No fear—

And if that's too much?

There's the door, sweetheart.

I like me here.

[Outro — guitar fading]

Pink hair.

Black boots.

Bad idea.

...

You were warned.