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 *Sobbing* 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? *Sobbing*