The fewest number of fatalities occurred on Sundays. The young man came foward, his face drawn and sad As he held out his hand, displaying his badge. The old chief stared up into the young rookie's eyes And tried to recall something clever and wise. It's how many less accident scenes you must visit. We're greatly outnumbered, the drugs are the worst, The schools are like hell, and the streets, they are cursed.
Dealers breed like damn roaches.
On the kids, they all prey, And even when arrested, they are out the next day. The old chief set his jaw, and tapped his finger, And on the young cop, his eyes sadly linger. If only for a night, it might be his salvation. They are won by the men who decide they can do it. Each time you go back to bust the same dirty louse, For the children and wife the violence has ceased, If for only a few hours, you offer them peace.