West Side Story: Act I: Gee, Officer Krupke

Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke, you gotta understand
 It's just our bringin' upke that gets us out of hand
 Our mothers all are junkies, our fathers all are drunks
 Golly Moses, naturally we're punks
 Gee, Officer Krupke, we're very upset
 We never had the love that every child oughta get
 We ain't no delinquents, we're misunderstood
 Deep down inside us there is good
 There is good
 There is good, there is good
 There is untapped good
 Like inside, the worst of us is good
 That's a touching good story
 Lemme tell it to the world
 Just tell it to the Judge
 Dear kindly Judge, Your Honor, my parents treat me rough
 With all their marijuana, they won't give me a puff
 They didn't wanna have me but somehow I was had
 Leapin' lizards, that's why I'm so bad
 Right, Officer Krupke, you're really a square
 This boy don't need a judge, he needs an analyst's care
 It's just his neurosis that oughta be curbed
 He's psychologically disturbed
 I'm disturbed
 We're disturbed, we're disturbed
 We're the most disturbed
 Like we're psychologically disturbed
 Hear ye, hear ye
 In the opinion of this court
 This child is depraved on account
 He ain't had a normal home
 Hey, I'm depraved
 On account I'm deprived
 So take him to a headshrinker
 My daddy beats my mommy, my mommy clobbers me
 My grandpa is a commie, my grandma pushes tea
 My sister wears a mustache, my brother wears a dress
 Goodness gracious, that's why I'm a mess
 Yes, Officer Krupke, he shouldn't be here
 This boy don't need a couch, he needs a useful career
 Society's played him a terrible trick
 And sociologically he's sick
 I am sick
 We are sick, we are sick
 We are sick, sick, sick
 Like we're sociologically sick
 In my opinion, this child does not need
 To have his head shrunk at all
 Juvenile delinquency
 Is purely a social disease
 Hey, I got a social disease
 So take him to a social worker
 Dear kindly social worker, they tell me get a job
 Like be a soda jerker, which means like be a slob
 It's not I'm antisocial, I'm only anti-work
 Glory Osky, that's why I'm a jerk
 Eek, Officer Krupke, you've 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 him, he's no good
 I'm no good
 We're no good, we're no good
 We're no earthly good
 Like the best of us is no damn good
 The trouble is he's lazy, the trouble is he drinks
 The trouble is he's crazy, the trouble is he stinks
 The trouble is he's growing, the trouble is he's grown
 Krupke, we've got troubles of our own
 Gee, Officer Krupke
 We're down on our knees
 'Cause no one wants a fella
 With a social disease
 Gee, Officer Krupke
 What are we to do?
 Gee, Officer Krupke
 Krup you!