Barry Manilow - Studio Musician lyrics
[Barry Manilow - Studio Musician lyrics]
But you know me well
I am the English horn
Who plays the poignant counterline
Upon the song you heard
While making love in some hotel
I am a part of you i've never tried for fame
You'll never know my name
I am the strings that enter softly
Or three guitars that glitter gold
I am the thousand trumpet lines
That were an afterthought intended as a way
To get a dying record sold
I never ride the road i never play around
I play what they set down
I'm a working musician
Living from week to week
I'm the voice through which empty
Men try to speak
A studio musician blowin' the chance I seek
And when the woodwind cushion rises
I start to dream on a low brass bed
But I awake to horns the drummer calls to me
We're up to letter D i'm a man of the moment
Pop is my stock and trade
Singles, jingles, and demos
Conveniently made
A studio musician
Whose music will die unplayed
A studio musician
Whose music could have died unplayed
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