Dripping Tap Rap

In the kitchen there’s a tap that’s always drip, drip, dripping,
Ever glooping, ever blooping, ever blip-blop-blipping.
Gives a syncopating rhythm as you come in through the door
And you find your slippers skipping ‘cross that kitchen floor.

While your feet are pitter-pattering your hands begin to clap,
You’ve been bitten, you’ve been smitten by that dripping tap rap.
Brother Billy grabs a spoon and beats the bottom of a pan,
Making like a crazy drummer from a rock and roll band.

Then you’re tapping on the worktop with a knife-and-fork,
Soft and swinging, you can almost make that cutlery talk.
Cousin Katie shakes the Raisin Bran just like a tambourine,
The most regular of rhythms anyone has ever seen.

Uncle Boris take a bottle, blows it gently ‘cross the top,
That’s the bass, truly ace, for your dripping tap bop.
Add the beeping of the timer on the mi-cro-wave
And we’re twitchin’ in the kitchen in a dripping tap rave.

Everybody starts to boogie, someone’s singing out a song,
Could be starting up a party lasting all night long,
But …
In comes Mumma with a plumber, puts a washer in the tap,
And my friend,
That is the end,
Of our dripping
Tap
Rap.