Mama, I Wanna Make Rhythm

Yasha was a prodigy, since he was a kid of three

He could play a rhapsody as good as they come

But as strange as it may be, Yasha hated melody

He had a yen for tympani, he longed to play a drum

When his mama made him practice on his fiddle every day

He'd stop right in the middle and he'd say

Mama, I wanna make rhythm

Don't wanna make music

Just wanna go

Mama, I wanna go hatcha

Don't wanna go boom-bah

Just wanna go

I've got no desire to carry a Stradivarius

But there's no limit of primitive tom-tom in my tum-tum

Mama, I wanna make rhythm

Don't wanna make music

Just wanna go