rupert holmes – studio musician lyrics
i am a studio musician
we’ve never met, but you know me well
i am the english h-rn that played the poignant counter-line
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, pulling my five a week
i’m the voice through which empty men try to speak
a studio musician
blowing the chance i seek
and when the woodwind cushion rises
i start to dream with the low br-ss bed
and i reject the riffs and hendrix l!cks they’ve paid me for
that i’ve played before
instead, they want what i hear in my head
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-in-trade
singles, jingles, and demos conveniently made
a studio musician
whose music will die unplayed
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