Faux

[Intro - solo ragtime piano and clarinet, curtain rising, at least 12 bars, no Afrobeats yet]

[Verse 1]

The curtain rises on the finest room in town,

velvet red and gold, nobody looks down,

the violin chair, his father's chair before,

he plays real loud so you don't hear what's underneath it for,

correcting everybody else's part so well,

that nobody's checking whether his own can even tell.

[Pre Chorus]

Look closer at the players,

something isn't right,

the shape of it is perfect,

but the sound don't sound like light.

[Chorus]

Sounds fine, doesn't it sound fine,

nobody's moved a chair in such a long, long time,

sounds fine, I think it sounds fine,

the tickets cost too much to ask the question one more time.

[Verse 2]

She used to play the drum, she kept the time too well,

dem move her to the piano, make she no fit tell,

the man wey used to sit for her chair,

dem let am go two season back, say no room dey there,

but e still dey come, e stand for the door,

e dey hum the cello line, half beat before.

[Chorus]

Sounds fine, doesn't it sound fine,

nobody's moved a chair in such a long, long time,

sounds fine, I think it sounds fine,

the tickets cost too much to ask the question one more time.

[Instrumental Break - deliberate wrong-instrument moment, drums fumble toward a melody, piano stumbles into rhythm, a few bars of intentional discord, then snaps back into the groove, at least 16 bars total]

[Bridge]

The man who holds the baton close his eye at the right time,

e never ask why the strings dey sound so thin,

maybe the room too beautiful to leave,

maybe comfort be the only thing wey people believe,

but a room full of talent, seated by who dem know,

still go play the same wrong music, no matter how the curtain glow.

[Final Verse]

Backstage, in the dark, one man dey straighten chair,

nobody ask am to, but e dey always there,

e hum the piece exactly the way wey dem write am first,

the only one wey still fit play it, standing in the worst

seat in the whole building, where the lights don't reach,

still the only true note that the whole night go teach.

[Final Chorus]

Sounds fine, doesn't it sound fine,

nobody's moved a chair in such a long, long time,

sounds fine, I think it sounds fine,

but somewhere in the dark, one man dey hum it right.

[Outro]

Faux... sounds fine...

Faux... nobody checked...

Faux... somewhere in the dark...

one man still know the notes.