The speaker lists three things that push them along: money, dinner, and the urge to make something. The first two lines are blunt and almost comic. Money brings a low, grey mood, while dinner simply leads to eating. Both feel like facts of daily life, things that happen to us whether we like it or not. That seems to be what the title, "Compulsion," points to: a life driven by needs we can't argue with.
Then the third line swerves. The speaker says they will make "the beautifulest world" sing, and the oddly childlike word "beautifulest" gives the vow a stubborn, hopeful energy. Yet the voice that will do the singing belongs to a "hard / half bed," a lean, uncomfortable image that suggests poverty, loneliness, or both. The line break after "hard" makes the bed feel even more bare. The mood is wry and tender at once: worry about money sits beside a fierce need to turn thin circumstances into song.