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Rupert Holmes
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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 working my five a week Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com I'm the voice through each empty men tried to speak A studio musician Blowin' the chance I see
And when the woodwind cushion rises I start to dream With the low brass bed But I awake the horns The drummer calls to me We're up the letter D
I'm a man of the moment pop is my stock n' trade Singles, jingles and demos conventently made A studio musician Whose music will die unplayed A studio musician Whose music could have died unplayed
- Special thanks to MichaelMedia for correcting the lyric.
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