| Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke
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| You gotta understand
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| It’s just our bringin' up-ke
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| That gets us out of hand
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| Our mothers all are junkies
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| Our fathers all are drunks
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| Golly Moses, naturally we’re punk!
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| Gee, Officer Krupke, we’re very upset;
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| We never had the love that ev’ry boy oughta get
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| We ain’t no delinquents
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| We’re misunderstood
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| Deep down inside us there is good!
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| There is good!
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| There is good, there is good
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| There is untapped good!
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| Like inside, the worst of us is good!
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| (That's a touchin' good story
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| Lemme tell it to the world!
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| Just tell it to the judge.)
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| Dear kindly Judge, your Honor
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| My parents treat me rough
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| With all their marijuana
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| They won’t give me a puff
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| They didn’t wanna have me
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| But somehow I was had
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| Leapin' lizards! |
| That’s why I’m so bad!
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| Officer Krupke, you’re really a square;
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| This boy don’t need a judge, he needs an analyst’s care!
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| It’s just his neurosis that oughta be cured
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| He’s psychologic’ly disturbed!
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| I’m disturbed!
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| We’re disturbed, we’re disturbed
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| We’re the most disturbed
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| Like we’re psychologic’ly disturbed
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| (Hear ye, Hear ye, in the opinion on this court, this child is depraved on
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| account of he ain’t had a normal home
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| Hey, I’m depraved because I’m deprived!
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| So take him to a headshrinker
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| Headshrinker, you!
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| Me?
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| You!)
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| My father is a bastard
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| My ma’s an S.O.B
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| My grandpa’s always plastered
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| My grandma pushes tea
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| My sister wears a mustache
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| My brother wears a dress
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| Goodness gracious, that’s why I’m a mess!
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| Yes!
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| Officer Krupke, you’re really a slob
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| This boy don’t need a doctor, just a good honest job
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| Society’s played him a terrible trick
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| And sociologic’ly he’s sick!
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| I am sick!
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| We are sick, we are sick
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| We are sick, sick, sick
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| Like we’re sociologically we’re sick!
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| (In my opinion, this child doesn’t need his head shrunk at all. Juvenile
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| delinquency is purely a social disease!
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| Hey, I got a social disease!
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| Just take him to the social worker!)
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| Dear kindly social worker
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| They say go make some dough
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| Like be a soda jerker
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| Which means I’ll be a schmo!
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| It’s not I’m anti-social
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| It’s just I’m anti-work
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| Gloryosky! |
| That’s why I’m a jerk!
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| (Officer Krupke, you’ve done it again
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| This boy don’t need a job, he needs a year in the pen
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| It ain’t just a question of misunderstood;
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| Deep down inside him, he’s no good!)
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| I’m no good!
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| We’re no good, we’re no good!
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| We’re no earthly good
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| Like the best of us is no damn good!
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| The trouble is he’s lazy
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| The trouble is he drinks
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| The trouble is he’s crazy
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| The trouble is he stinks
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| The trouble is he’s growing
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| The trouble is he’s grown
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| Krupke, we’ve got troubles of our own!
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| Gee, Officer Krupke
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| We’re down on our knees
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| 'Cause no one wants a fellow with a social disease
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| Gee, Officer Krupke
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| What are we to do?
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| Gee, Officer Krupke
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| Fuck you! |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bernstein: West Side Story - XIV. Gee, Officer Krupke, artist - David LivingstonAlbum song The Leonard Bernstein Collection - Volume 1 - Part 2, in the genre Шедевры мировой классики