I found him by the stage last night He was breathing his last breath A bottle of wine and a cigarette Was all that he had left "I can see you make the music 'Cause you carry a guitar God help the troubadour Who tries to be a star" So play the chords of love, my friend Play the chords of pain If you want to keep your song, Don't, don't, don't, don't play the chords of fame I seen my share of hustlers As they try to take the world When they find their melody They're surrounded by the girls But it all fades so quickly Like a sunny summer day Reporters ask you questions They write down what you say (Chorus) They'll rob you of your innocence They will put you up for sale The more that you will find success The more that you will fail I been around, I've had my share And I really can't complain But I wonder who I left behind The other side of fame
Top songs from Phil Ochs
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