You Can't Hold The Hand Of A Rock And Roll Man Lyrics - Stage Names - 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 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 

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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." 

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 

Photos 

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