Текст (слова) песни: Barry Manilow - Studio Musician
I am a studio musician, We`ve never met, 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.
Прямая ссылка на текст песни Studio Musician: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/101/1/15123.html