Studio Musician Lyrics
| Song | Studio Musician |
| Artist | Barry Manilow |
| Album | Live |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Lyrics：Rupert Holmes Music：Rupert Holmes | |
| I am a studio musician | |
| We've never met | |
| But you know me well | |
| I am the English horn | |
| Who plays the poignant counter-nine | |
| 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 eyes, | |
| the way to get a dying record sold | |
| I never ride the road | |
| I never play around | |
| I played what they set down | |
| I'm a working musician | |
| living from week to week | |
| I'm the voice through each empty men | |
| tried to speak | |
| A studio musician | |
| Blowin' the chance I see | |
| And when the woodwind coushin 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 | |
| Dock 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 |
| Lyrics: Rupert Holmes Music: Rupert Holmes | |
| I am a studio musician | |
| We' ve never met | |
| But you know me well | |
| I am the English horn | |
| Who plays the poignant counternine | |
| 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 eyes, | |
| the way to get a dying record sold | |
| I never ride the road | |
| I never play around | |
| I played what they set down | |
| I' m a working musician | |
| living from week to week | |
| I' m the voice through each empty men | |
| tried to speak | |
| A studio musician | |
| Blowin' the chance I see | |
| And when the woodwind coushin 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 | |
| Dock 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 |
| Lyrics: Rupert Holmes Music: Rupert Holmes | |
| I am a studio musician | |
| We' ve never met | |
| But you know me well | |
| I am the English horn | |
| Who plays the poignant counternine | |
| 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 eyes, | |
| the way to get a dying record sold | |
| I never ride the road | |
| I never play around | |
| I played what they set down | |
| I' m a working musician | |
| living from week to week | |
| I' m the voice through each empty men | |
| tried to speak | |
| A studio musician | |
| Blowin' the chance I see | |
| And when the woodwind coushin 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 | |
| Dock 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 |
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