| I went to a party at the local county jail
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| All the cons were dancing and the band began to wail
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| But the guys were indiscreet
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| They were brawling in the street
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| At the local dance at the local county jail
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| Well the band were playing
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| And the booze began to flow
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| But the sound came over on the police car radio
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| Down at Precinct 49
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| Having a tear-gas of a time
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| Sergeant Baker got a call from the governor of the county jail
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| Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
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| Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
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| I love to hear those convicts squeal
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| It’s a shame these slugs ain’t real
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| But we can’t have dancing at the local county jail
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| Sergeant Baker and his men made a bee-line for the jail
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| And for miles around
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| You could hear the sirens wail
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| There’s a rumor going round death row
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| That a fuse is gonna blow
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| At the local hop at the local county jail
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| Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
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| Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
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| Sergeant Baker started talking
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| With a bullhorn in his hand
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| He was cool, he was clear
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| He was always in command
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| He said «Blood will flow;
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| Here Padre
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| Padre you talk to your boys…»
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| «Trust in me —
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| God will come to set you free»
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| Well we don’t understand
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| Why you called in the National Guard
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| When Uncle Sam is the one
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| Who belongs in the exercise yard
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| We all got balls and brains
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| But some’s got balls and chains
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| At the local dance at the local county jail
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| Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
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| Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
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| Is it really such a crime
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| For a guy to spend his time
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| At the local dance at the local county jail
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| At the local dance at the local county jail
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| Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
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| Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do |