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barry manilow - studio musician lyrics

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i am a studio musician,
we’ve never met,
but you know me well.

i am the english h-rn,
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 br-ss bed,

but i awake to h-rns,
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.

- barry manilow lyrics

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