One perfect modern rock song

...

I'm not as sad as Doestoevsky,

I'm not as clever as Mark Twain,

I'll only buy a book for the way it looks,

And then I stick it on the shelf again.

Now I could tell you what I'm thinking,

But it never seems to do you good,

It's beyond me what a girl can see,

I'm only lucid when I'm writing songs.

This is just a modern rock song,

This is just a sorry lament,

We're four boys in corduroys,

We're not terrific but we're competent.

Stevie's full of good intentions,

Richards into rock 'n' roll,

Stuart's staying in and he thinks it's a sin,

That he has to leave the house at all.

...

This is just a modern rock song,

This is just a tender affair,

I count "three, four" and then we start to slow,

Because a song has got to stop somewhere.