*Edit

OK. Forget it. The Hold Steady have redeemed themselves with:

Sunday morning, sidewalk splattered
feverish in
stylish tatters
didn’t this used to seem like glamour?
I remember when it mattered.

Can’t get over what’s transpired
left home virgins, came back vampires
belt it out like backstretched choirs
we're either dead or
really tired.

Every other word was a misfire
Saw the artists, missed the bonfire.*



*Final two lines courtesy of The Hold Steady Random Lyric Generator.

Just like you, Matt Wild plays (played?) in a rock and roll band and is constantly broke. He has all his original hair, however, and weeps openly at baseball games.