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 your collates
you sit in the van and wait
Gassed and trashed and smashed, young roasting away
On a sunny summer day or, okay, an night anyway

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

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

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

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

astride 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 lawyer lets you wear
You'll your chance to ever get repeatedly engaged