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