Rhythm and rhyme, rhythm and rhyme,

I think all the time in rhythm and rhyme.

Tick tock, tick tock, tip tap and a chime,

I’m trapped in the clockwork of rhythm and rhyme.

 

The words in my head, they’ve go to get out, got to get out,

they’re running, they’re drumming, they’re spinning about.

The words in my mind, have got to break free, have got to shout out,

in rhythm in rhyme, I’m letting them out.

 

Rage is a drumbeat, bam-bam, boom-boom,

it rattles the ceiling; it shakes up the room.

Frustration’s a baseline, low and loud, deep so very deep,

it rumbles in my chest when I’m trying to sleep.

 

Regret is a cello, stay, stay, stay,

it folds into my soul and won’t go away.

Sorrow’s a violin, long notes, slow-slow, slow,

it plays in the night when my dreams start to flow.

 

But joy, oh joy, it snaps like a snare,

it lifts me, it spins me, it throws me up in the air.

It scatters the clouds, it scatters the gloom,

and suddenly everything’s tickety-boom.

 

Rhythm and rhyme, rhythm and rhyme,

back to the start, same beat and just the same time.

Tick-tock, tick tock, tip tap, chime,

I now live my whole life in rhythm and rhyme.