The Weeping Policeman

I know a thin young policeman, he's always on our street
A thin young, sallow pale-faced man, his clothes all black and neat
He's too sad to be a policeman, he's never known to smile
When everybody sees him they run a blessed mile


He weeps upon his duty, he cries upon his beat
He scowls at everybody when he's walking in the street
Is he mad or in a coma? Or is he back in time?
Or is he trying to get back home by solving all the crime?


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