Verse He walks in with a grin, says, “I’ve been practicin’ all week,” Pulls up a chair, turns on the keys — oh boy, this’ll be unique. He hits a C, then maybe G, then something in between, It’s jazz? It’s pop? It’s chaos — but man, it’s quite a scene. Chorus He thinks he knows how to play, But no one knows what he’s playin’. Every note’s a mystery, But the rhythm’s kinda slayin’. He smiles so wide, we can’t complain, Though it’s noise more than a refrain — He keeps jammin’, we keep sayin’, “We still like him anyway.” Verse He swears it’s “Let It Be,” but it sounds like “Billie Jean,” A mashup no one asked for, but it’s art — somehow, I mean. He winks, says, “Hear that chord?” We nod and sip our drink, He’s either pure genius… or one note from the brink. Chorus He thinks he knows how to play, But no one knows what he’s playin’. Every tune a brand new way, To keep our eardrums swayin’. He’s off the map, he’s lost the lane, But love’s the melody we gain — So keep on jammin’, we’ll keep sayin’, “We still like him anyway.” Bridge Maybe one day he’ll find the key, Or maybe not, and that’s fine by me. 'Cause heart beats talent every time, And laughter’s the best kind of rhyme. Chorus He thinks he knows how to play, And maybe that’s okay. ‘Cause music’s more than perfect pitch — It’s joy in disarray. So when he hits that wrong E-flat, We cheer and shout “Hooray!” He keeps playin’, we keep stayin’, “We still like him anyway.”