The Mediocre Melodies

[Verse] Strumming aimlessly on a busted old guitar His voice cracks like a rusty old car He dreams of fame But he can't get far The talentless musician The superstar-wannabe star Drowning in the sea of forgotten tunes He croons with no rhythm Just random swoons No one wants to listen to his off-key croons The talentless musician Singing out of tune [Verse 2] He plays the keys But the melody's a mess His fingers stumble Creating musical distress His lyrics are shallow Lacking any finesse The talentless musician Passionless I confess Every gig he plays, the chairs stay bare, Haunted by echoes, in the stale night air. Yet in his heart, a fire burns bright, Holding onto dreams with all his might. Under streetlights, he finds his stage, Ignored by passersby, no cheers to gauge. But he strums louder, his spirit won't cage, A warrior in battle, though he's underpaid. Yet he plays on, In his world alone, The talentless musician, His spirit shown. Each note he strikes, Misses the mark, But inside his chest beats a hopeful heart. Yet he plays on, In his world alone, The talentless musician, His spirit shown. Each note he strikes, Misses the mark, But inside his chest beats a hopeful heart. So what if he’s offbeat, and a step behind? In his melodies, his truth you'll find. Raw and flawed, but undeniably real, With each wrong note, more human he feels. Yet he plays on, Determined to prove, The talentless musician, Has a point to move. Every miss, a lesson learned, In the concert of life, his passion burns. [Beat fades out and song ends]