Steppes
Officer Krupke
Music
Leonard Bernstein
Arranged by
Steppes
Words
Stephen Sondheim
Lyrics
Rob: Deeaaar kindly sergeant Krupke
Ya gotta understand
It's just our bringin' upke
That gets us outta hand
Our mothers all are junkies
Our fathers all are drunks
Golly moses, naturally we're punks
All: Gee officer krupke
We're very upset
We never had the love
That every child outta get
We ain't no delinquents
We're misunderstood
Deep down inside us
Der is good, der is good
Der is good, der is good
Der is often good
Like inside the woist of us is good
Scott: Tell the judges your story
Rob: Let me tell it to da world
Scott: Just tell it to da judge
Rob: Deeaaar kindly judge yer honor
My parents treat me rough
Wit 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
Dave: Why officer Krupke
You're really a square
This boy don't need a judge
He needs an analyst's care
It's just his neuroses
Dat otta be coibed
He's psychologically distoibed
Rob: I'm distoibed
All: We're distoibed, we're distoibed
We're the most distoibed
Like we're psychologically distoibed
Dave: Hear ye, hear ye, in the opinion
Of dis court this child is depraved
On accounta he ain't had
A normal home
Rob: hey! I'm depraved
On accounta I'm deprived
Lee: so take him to a head shrinka
Rob: Who? Who me?
My daddy beats my mommy
My mommy clobbers me
My grampa is a commie
My gramma pushes tea
My sister wears a mustache
My brudda wears a dress
Goodness gracious
Dats why I'm a mess
Scott: Yes, offizer Krrupke
He zhouldn't be herre
Dis boy don't need a couch
He needs a uzeful carreer
Soziety played him
A terrible trrick
Unt zoziologically he's zick
Rob: I am zick!
All: We are sick, we are sick
We are sick sick sick
Like we're sociologically sick
Scott: In my opinion zis child does not
Need to have hiss head shrrunk
At all, juvenile delinquency is
Purrely a zocial disease
Rob: hey! I got a social disease
Dave: So take him to a social woika
Rob: Which way?
Dave: Right there
Rob: Deeaaar kindly social woika
Dey tell me get a job
Like be a soda joika
Which means like be a slob
It ain't I'm anti-social
I'm only anti-woik
Glory-osky dats why I'm a joik
Lee: Yes officer Krupke
You've done it again
Dis 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
Rob: I'm no good
All: We're no good, we're no good
We're no oithly good
Like the best of us is no damn good
Dave: The trouble is he's lazy
Bill: The trouble is he drinks
Scott: The trouble is he's crazy
Lee: The trouble is he stinks
Dave: The trouble is he's growing
Lee: The trouble is he's grown
All: Krupke we've got
Troubles of our own
Officer Krupke
We're down on our knees
Rob: Cuz no one wants a fella
With a social disease
All: Gee officer Krupke
What are we to do?????
Gee officer Krupke, krup you!