
Date of issue: 28.09.1989
Record label: Reprise
Song language: English
Crime in the City (Sixty to Zero Pt. I) |
Well, the cop made the showdown |
He was sure he was right |
He had all of the lowdown |
From the bank heist last night |
His best friend was the robber |
And his wife was a thief |
All the children were killers |
They couldn’t get no relief |
The bungalow was surrounded |
When a voice loud and clear |
Said, Come on out |
With your hands up Or we’ll blow you out of here. |
There was a face in the window |
The TV cameras rolled |
Then they cut to the announcer |
And the story was told. |
The artist looked at the producer |
The producer sat back |
He said, What we have got here |
Is a perfect track |
But we don’t have a vocal |
And we don’t have a song |
If we could get |
These things accomplished |
Nothin' else could go wrong. |
So he balanced the ashtray |
As he picked up the phone |
And said, Send me a songwriter |
Who’s drifted far from home |
And make sure that he’s hungry |
Make sure he’s alone |
Send me a cheeseburger |
And a new Rolling Stone. |
Yeah. |
There’s still crime in the city, |
Said the cop on the beat, |
I don’t know if I can stop it I feel like meat on the street |
They paint my car like a target |
I take my orders from fools |
Meanwhile some kid |
Blows my head off |
Well, I play by their rules |
That’s why I’m doin' it my way |
I took the law in my hands |
So here I am in the alleyway |
A wad of cash in my pants |
I get paid by a ten year old |
He says he looks up to me |
There’s still crime in the city |
But it’s good to be free. |
Yeah. |
Now I come from a family |
That has a broken home |
Sometimes I talk to Daddy |
On the telephone |
When he says that he loves me I know that he does |
But I wish I could see him |
I wish I knew where he was |
But that’s the way |
All my friends are |
Except maybe one or two |
Wish I could |
See him this weekend |
Wish I could walk in his shoes |
But now I’m doin' my own thing |
Sometimes I’m good, then I’m bad |
Although my home has been broken |
It’s the best home I ever had |
Yeah. |
Well, I keep gettin' younger |
My life’s been funny that way |
Before I ever learned to talk |
I forgot what to say |
I sassed back to my mom |
I sassed back to my teacher |
I got thrown out of Bible school |
For sassin' back at the preacher |
Then I grew up to be a fireman |
Put out every fire in town |
Put out anything smokin' |
But when I put the hose down |
The judge sent me to prison |
He gave me life without parole |
Wish I never put the hose down |
Wish I never got old. |
Song tags: #Crime In The City
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