Mama, I Wanna Make Rhythm - Al Bowlly

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 mother made him practice on the fiddle

Everyday, he’d stop right in the middle

And he’d say

Mama, I wanna make rhythm

Don’t wanta make music

Just wanna go zoozi, zah, zah, zoozi

Ooh, cah, dee, doodle, oodle, aah, doo

Mama, I wanna get hotcha

I wanta make boombah

I wanna go gah, gah

Za, rah, kah, zat, zow, ooh, dee, lah

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 wanta make music

Just wanna go wookee ah kay akaya kaya

Yag a yag a yag a yag