In smoky halls where shadows dance,
There strides a man with flair and stance.
With saxophone in hand, he's seen,
Shane Ritchie, the jazz machine.

His fingers glide on keys so fine,
A melody born from his mind's design.
Each note he plays, a tale untold,
In his jazz world, he's bold and bold.

His voice, a velvet, smooth and low,
Sings of love lost and nights aglow.
The rhythm flows through every chord,
In Shane Ritchie, jazz is adored.

In every riff, a story's spun,
Of midnight dreams beneath the sun.
With passion deep and soul so pure,
Shane Ritchie's jazz will endure.