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*