Gee, Officer Krupke Lyrics - Singles - Westside Story

Hey you 

Who me, Officer Krupke? 

Yeah you, gimme one good reason for not dragging 

You down the station, ya punk? 

Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke, you gotta understand 

It's just our bringin' upke 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 every 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 touching 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 marijuana, 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 psychologically disturbed 

Hear ye, hear ye 

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 grandpa is a commie, my grandma 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 sociologically he's sick 

I am sick 

We are sick, we are sick 

We are sick, sick, sick 

Like we're sociologically sick 

In my opinion, this child does not need 

To have his head shrunk at all 

Juvenile 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 

Like be a soda jerker, which means like be a slob 

It's not I'm antisocial, I'm only anti-work 

Glory Osky, that's why I'm a jerk 

Eek, 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!