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

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
So, on a sunny summer day (or, okay, an August night anyway)
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

Just an hour before she crashed, all cashed
She said "I'm done with looking back, and you look your age-
Which is 37, by the way, and not 28-
Fucking let them stare, 'cause 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

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 Silverlake-
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