Gee, Officer Krupke
1957 Broadway lyrics
ACTION
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.
ACTION AND JETS
Golly Moses, natcherly we're punks!
Gee, Officer Krupke, we're very upset;
We never had the love that ev'ry child oughta get.
We ain't no delinquents,
We're misunderstood.
Deep down inside us there is good!
ACTION
There is good!
ALL
There is good, there is good,
There is untapped good.
Like inside, the worst of us is good.
SNOWBOY
(Spoken) That's a touchin' good story.
ACTION
(Spoken) Lemme tell it to the world!
SNOWBOY
Just tell it to the judge.
ACTION
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!
DIESEL
(As Judge) Right!
Officer Krupke, you're really a square.
This boy don't need a judge, he needs a [sic] analyst's care!
It's just his neurosis that oughta be curbed.
He's psychologically disturbed!
ACTION
I'm disturbed!
ALL
We're disturbed, we're disturbed,
We're the most disturbed,
Like we're psychologically disturbed.
DIESEL
(Spoken, as Judge) In the opinion on this court, this child is depraved on account he ain't had a normal home.
ACTION
(Spoken) Hey, I'm depraved on account I'm deprived.
DIESEL
So take him to a headshrinker.
ACTION (Sings)
My father is a bastard,
My ma'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!
A-RAB (As Psychiatrist)
Yes!
Officer Krupke, you're really a slob.
This boy don't need a doctor, just a good honest job.
Society's played him a terrible trick,
And sociologically he's sick!
ACTION
I am sick!
ALL
We are sick, we are sick,
We are sick, sick, sick,
Like we're sociologically sick!
A-RAB
In my opinion, this child don't need to have his head shrunk at all. Juvenile delinquency is purely a social disease.
ACTION (spoken)
Hey, I got a social disease!
A-RAB (spoken)
So take him to a social worker!
ACTION
Dear 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.
Gloryosky, that's why I'm a jerk!
BABY JOHN (As Social Worker)
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!
ACTION
I'm no good!
ALL
We're no good, we're no good!
We're no earthly good,
Like the best of us is no damn good!
DIESEL (As Judge)
The trouble is he's crazy.
A-RAB (As Psychiatrist)
The trouble is he drinks.
BABY JOHN (As Social Worker)
The trouble is he's lazy.
DIESEL
The trouble is he stinks.
A-RAB
The trouble is he's growing.
BABY JOHN
The trouble is he's grown.
ALL
Krupke, we got troubles of our own!
Gee, Officer Krupke,
We're down on our knees,
'Cause no one wants a fellow with a social disease.
Gee, Officer Krupke,
What are we to do?
Gee, Officer Krupke,
Krup you!
1961 film lyrics
RIFF
Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke,
Ya gotta understand:
It's just our bringin' upke
That gets us outta hand.
Our mothers all are junkies,
Our fathers all are drunks.
Golly Moses, natcherly we're punks.
ALL
Gee, Officer Krupke, we're very upset;
We never had the love that ev'ry child oughta get.
We ain't no delinquents,
We're misunderstood.
Deep down inside us there is good!
RIFF
There is good!
ALL
There is good, there is good,
There is untapped good.
Like inside, the worse of us is good.
TIGER
(imitating Krupke) That's a touchin' good story.
RIFF
Lemme tell it to the world!
TIGER
(imitating Krupke) Just tell it to the Judge.
RIFF (**to Snowboy)
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 what I'm so bad!
SNOWBOY
(As Judge) Right!
Officer Krupke, you're really a square.
This boy don't need a judge, he needs a [sic] analyst's care!
It's just his neurosis that oughta be curbed.
He's psychologically disturbed!
RIFF
I'm disturbed!
ALL
We're disturbed, we're disturbed,
We're the most disturbed,
Like we're psychologically disturbed.
SNOWBOY
(Spoken, as Judge) Hear ye, Her ye! In the opinion
Of this court, this child is depraved on account he ain't had a normal home.
RIFF
(Spoken) Hey, I'm depraved on account I'm deprived!
SNOWBOY
So take him to a headshrinker.
RIFF (to Action) (sings)
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!
ACTION (As Psychiatrist)
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!
RIFF
I am sick!
ALL
We are sick, we are sick,
We are sick, sick, sick,
Like we're sociologically sick!
ACTION
In my opinion, this child does not need to have his head shrunk at all. Juvenile delinquency is purely a
social disease.
RIFF (spoken)
Hey, I got a social disease!
ACTION (spoken as psychiatrist)
So take him to a social worker!
RIFF (to ARAB)(sings)
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 anti-social,
I'm only anti-work.
Gloryosky, that's why I'm a jerk!
ARAB (As Social Worker)
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!
RIFF
I'm no good!
ALL
We're no good, we're no good!
We're no earthly good,
Like the best of us is no damn good!
SNOWBOY (As Social Worker)
The trouble is he's lazy.
JOYBOY (As Psychiatrist)
The trouble is he drinks
BABY JOHN (As Judge)
The trouble is he's crazy.
ARAB
The trouble is he stinks.
MOUTHPIECE
The trouble is he's growing.
ACTION
The trouble is he's grown.
ALL
Krupke, we 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!
Music by Leonard Bernstein, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim.
© 1956, 1957 Amberson Holdings LLC and Stephen Sondheim. Copyright renewed.
Leonard Bernstein Music Publishing Company LLC, Publisher.