Luyện nghe bài hát You Can't Hold The Hand Of A Rock And Roll Man

This week's cash for last week's grass crew collates
While you sit in the van and
and trashed and smashed, young cads roasting away
On a sunny summer day or, okay, an night anyway

And you're living on air, while on the 25th up there
They'd fan a million bucks before face
Marie's passed out in a chair with her once fussed-over
All mussed into an I've just fucked shape

Just an before, she crashed, all cashed
She said, I'm done with looking back, and you your age
is thirty-seven, by the way, and not twenty-eight

And fucking let them stare at this point I don't care
I have been your stripped bare since 98
And our silver-screen affair, it weighs less to me air
It's a gas now, it's a laugh, just how far several mil can it

This week's fast as last week's of interstate
When you starved and ate
This week's a sick, gold cast across your face
As you roam on silk, ripped tippy-toe alone through lake

Splayed astride a snow-white mare, on a all-night tear
What a ghastly sight you smear in every
In that fat, fur-trimmed affair that your lets you wear
You'll your chance to ever get repeatedly engaged