See them cops, they believe everything they read in the papers about us cruddy JDs.
So that's what we give 'em,
somethin' to believe in.
Hey you!
Who me, Officer Krupke?
Yeah you!
Give me one good reason for not dragging you down to the station house y' old punk!
Dear kindly Sargeant Krupke,
You gotta understand,
It's just our bringin' up-ke
That gets us out of hand.
Our mothers all are junkies,
Our fathers all are drunks.
Golly Moses, naturally we're punks!
Gee, Officer Krupke, we're very upset;
We never had the love that ev'ry child oughta get.
We ain't no delinquents,
We're misunderstood.
Deep down inside us there is good!
There is good!
There is good, there is good
There is untapped good!
Like inside, the worst of us is good!
That's a touchin' good story!
Lemme tell it to the world!
Just tell it to the judge.
Dear kindly Judge, your Honor,
My parents treat me rough.
With all their marajuana,
They won't give me a puff.
They didn't wanna have me,
But somehow I was had.
Leapin' lizards that's why I'm so bad!
Right!
Officer Krupke you're really a square;
This boy don't need a judge
He needs an analyst's care!
It's just his neurosis that oughta be curbed.
He's psychologically disturbed!
I'm disturbed!
We're disturbed, we're disturbed,
We're the most disturbed,
Like we're psychologic'ly disturbed.
In the opinion of this court, this child is depraved on account he ain't had a normal home.
Hey, I'm depraved on account I'm deprived.
So take him to a headshrinker.
My daddy beats my mommy,
My mommy clobbers me.
My grampa is a commy,
My gramma pushes tea.
My sister wears a mustache,
My brother wears a dress.
Goodness gracious that's why I'm a mess!
Yes Officer Krupke he shouldn't be here.
This boy don't need a couch,
He needs a useful career
Society's played him a terrible trick.
And socialogic'ly he's sick!
I'm sick!
We're sick, we're sick, we're sick sick sick.
Like we're socialogically sick.
In my opinion this child don't need to have his head shrunk at all.
Juvinille delinquency is purely a social disease!
Hey, I got a social disease!
So take him to a social worker!
Dear kindly, Social Worker,
They tell me get a job.
I'd be a soda jerker,
Which means I'd be a slob.
It's not I'm anti-social,
I'm only anti-work.
Glory ivy, that's why I'm a jerk!
Officer Krupke you've done it again!
This boy don't need a job,
He needs a year in the pen.
It ain't just a question of misunderstood,
Deep down inside him, he's no good!
I'm no good!
We're no good, we're no good!
We're no earthly good,
Like the best of us is no damn good!
The trouble is he's lazy.
The trouble is he drinks.
The trouble is he's crazy.
The trouble is he stinks.
The trouble is he's growing.
The trouble is he's grown.
Krupke, we've got troubles of our own!
Gee, Officer Krupke,
We're down on our knees,
'Cause no one wants a fella with a social disease.
Gee, Officer Krupke,
What are we to do?
Gee, Officer Krupke,
Krup You!

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