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the poet
05-18-2006, 05:10 AM
The Police Latrine (to the tune of yellow submarine)

In the Burg where we all work
Is a chief who fails to see
That the reason they are leavin
This sinking police latrine
He just sees the second floor
As a flowing field of green
While we work within the realm
Of the sinking police latrine.

We all work in a sinking police latrine, sinking police latrine, sinking police latrine.
We all work in a sinking police latrine, sinking police latrine, sinking police latrine.

And our friends all offer hope
By sending applic-ates
With the dream we all can have
A fast approaching hire date

We all work in a sinking police latrine, sinking police latrine, sinking police latrine.
We all work in a sinking police latrine, sinking police latrine, sinking police latrine.

Until our peace of freedom reins
We’ll continue to serve in fear
Til our resig-nation’s dropped
In the bowl of the police latrine

We all work in a sinking police latrine, sinking police latrine, sinking police latrine.
We all work in a sinking police latrine, sinking police latrine, sinking police latrine. [/img]