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

This week's cash for week's grass your crew collates
you sit in the van and wait
Gassed and and smashed, young cads roasting away
On a summer day or, okay, an August night anyway

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

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

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

This fast as last week's flash of interstate
When you and never ate
week's splashed a sick, gold cast across your face
As you roam on silk, ripped tippy-toe alone through Silver

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