Mad Man’s Beat

I make my rhythm and my rhyme,
I spread my wings and take flight.
But, I may not even make a dime.

Stars go waltzing just in time,
And clusters form for tonight.
I make my rhythm and my rhyme.

I will never fear your crime,
Or just settle for a bite.
But, I may not even make a dime.

I would even put up with your slime,
We could even be considered tight.
I make my rhythm and my rhyme.

So many stories from back in my prime,
I grow old and forget your name.
But, I may not even make a dime.

God put a smile upon your lime,
Now go and be a knight.
I make my rhythm and my rhyme,
But, I may not even make a dime.