My father is a bastard, my mom's an S.O.B.
My grandpa's always plastered, my grandma pushes tea
My sister wears a mustache, my brother wears a dress
Goodness gracious, that's why I'm a mess
Officer Krupke, you're really a slob
This boy don't need a doctor just a good honest job
Society played him a terrible trick
Socialogically he's sick (we are sick)
We are sick, we are sick, we are sick, sick, sick
Like we're socialogically sick

Kindly social worker, they say go earn a buck
Like be a soda jerker which means like be a schmuck
It's not I'm anti-social, I'm only anti-work
Gloriaski, now that's why I'm a jerk
Officer Krupke, you done it again
This boy don't need a job he needs a year in the pen
It ain't just a question of misunderstood
Deep, down inside he ain't no damn good
We're no good, we're no good, we're no earthly good
Like a pest, a bug ain't no damn good

The trouble is he's crazy, the trouble is he drinks
The problem is he's lazy, the trouble is he stinks
The trouble is he's growin', the trouble is he's grown
Krupke, we've got troubles of our own
Gee, Officer Krupke, we're down on our knees
Cuz no one wants a fella with a social disease
Gee, Officer Krupke, what are we to do?
Gee, Officer Krupke, krup you!