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 [scat]

Mama, I wanna go hotcha
Don't wanna go boombah
Just wanna go [scat]

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 [scat]