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I found him by the stage last night, he was breathing his last breath. |
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A bottle of gin and a cigarette was all what he had left. |
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Well, I know that you make music 'cause you carry a guitar, |
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But God help the troubadour who tries to be a star. |
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Come on and play the chords of love, my friend, |
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Play the chords of fame, |
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But if you want to keep your song, do mi, do mi do, |
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Don't play the chords of fame, oh no, no. |
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You know I've seen my share of hustlers as they try to take the world |
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And when they find a melody, they're surrounded by the girls. |
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But it all fades so quickly like a sunny summer day, |
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Reporters ask you questions and they write down what you say. |
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Come on and play the chords of love, my friend, |
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Play the chords of fame, |
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But if you want to keep your song, do mi, do mi do, |
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Don't play the chords of fame, oh no, no. |
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They'll rob you of your innocence, and put you up for sale. |
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The more that you will find success, the more that you will fail. |
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I've been around, I've had my share, and I really can't complain, |
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But I wonder who I left behind on the other side of fame. |
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Come on and play the chords of love, my friend, |
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Play the chords of fame, |
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But if you want to keep your song, do mi, do mi do, |
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Don't play the chords of fame, oh no, no. |
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Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, |
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Don't, oh don't, don't play the chords of fame. |
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Don't, oh don't, don't play the chords of fame. |
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Don't ... |
