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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 wine and a cigarette was all that he had left. |
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I can see you make music 'cause you carry a guitar, |
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God help the troubadour who tries to be a star. |
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So play the chords of love, my friend, play the chords of pain. |
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If you want to keep your song, |
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Don't, don't, don't, don't play the chords of fame. |
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I seen my share of hustlers as they try to take the world, |
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When they find their 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, they write down what you say. |
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So play the chords of love, my friend, play the chords of pain. |
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If you want to keep your song, |
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Don't, don't, don't, don't play the chords of fame. |
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They'll rob you of your innocence, they will 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 been around, I've had my share, and I really can't complain, |
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But I wonder who I left behind the other side of fame. |
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So play the chords of love, my friend, play the chords of pain. |
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If you want to keep your song, |
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Don't, don't, don't, don't play the chords of fame. |
