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