i rhymed till the rhyme ran raw
till the rhythm gave way
for the sonnet to sigh
what becomes of the beat of the drum
dum da da dum dum dum da da dum
what becomes of the tempo, the tune
to break the harmony we look to
to feel that giddy swoon
dum da da dum dum dum dum
the lilt, the tickle, the smack, the clap
theres no gettin round it
no play makes one hell of a dull Jack