(Jerome Jerome / Richard Byron / Walter Kent) 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 every day 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-a-kaya-kaya Yag-a-yag-a-yag-a-yag
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