You Can't Hold The Hand Of A Rock And Roll Man

Intro: verse 1 This week's cash for last week's grass Your crew collates while you sit in the van and wait Gassed and trashed and smashed young cads Roasting away on a sunny summer day (Or, okay, an August night anyway) verse 2 And you're living on air While on the 25th floor, up there They'd fan a million bucks before your face Marie's passed out in a chair with her once fussed-over hair All mussed into an I've-just-been-fucked shape verse 3 Just an hour before, she crashed, all cashed She said, "I'm done with looking back, and you look your age Which is thirty-seven, by the way and not twenty-eight And fucking let them stare, because at this point I don't care I have been your bride stripped bare since '98 And our silver-screen affair, it weighs less to me than air It's a gas now. It's a laugh just how far several mil can take it" Instrumental: verse 4 This week's as fast as last week's flash of interstate When you starved and never ate This week's splashed a sick, gold cast across your face As you roam on silk ripped tippy-toe alone through Silver lake Verse 5 Splayed astride a snow-white mare on a non-stop all-night tear What a ghastly sight you smear in every face In that fat, fur-trimmed affair that your lawyer lets you wear You'll destroy your chance to ever get repeatedly engaged Outro: