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Crime In The City (sixty To Zero Part 1) Lyrics by Neil Young

(from the album Weld (Live))

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Well, the cop made the showdown
     He was sure he was right
     He had all of the lowdown
     From the bank heist last night
     His best friend was the robber
     And his wife was a thief
     All the children were killers
     They couldn't get no relief
     The bungalow was surrounded
     When a voice loud and clear
     Said, Come on out with your hands up
     Or we'll blow you out of here.
     There was a face in the window
     The TV cameras rolled
     Then they cut to the announcer
     And the story was told.
      
     The artist looked at the producer
     The producer sat back
     He said, What we have got here
     Is a perfect track
     But we don't have a vocal
     And we don't have a song
     If we could get these things accomplished
     Nothin' else could go wrong.
     So he balanced the ashtray
     As he picked up the phone
     And said, Send me a songwriter
     Who's drifted far from home
     And make sure that he's hungry
     Make sure he's alone
     Send me a cheeseburger
     And a new Rolling Stone.
     Yeah.
      
     There's still crime in the city,
     Said the cop on the beat,
     I don't know if I can stop it
     I feel like meat on the street
     They paint my car like a target
     I take my orders from fools
     Meanwhile some kid blows my head off
     Well, I play by their rules
     That's why I'm doin' it my way
     I took the law in my hands
      
     So here I am in the alleyway
     A wad of cash in my pants
     I get paid by a ten year old
     He says he looks up to me
     There's still crime in the city
     But it's good to be free.
     Yeah.
      
     Now I come from a family
     That has a broken home
     Sometimes I talk to Daddy
     On the telephone
     When he says that he loves me
     I know that he does
     But I wish I could see him
     I wish I knew where he was
     But that's the way all my friends are
     Except maybe one or two
     Wish I could see him this weekend
     Wish I could walk in his shoes
     But now I'm doin' my own thing
     Sometimes I'm good, then I'm bad
     Although my home has been broken
     It's the best home I ever had
     Yeah.
      
     Well, I keep gettin' younger
     My life's been funny that way
     Before I ever learned to talk
     I forgot what to say
     I sassed back to my mom
     I sassed back to my teacher
     I got thrown out of Bible school
     For sassin' back at the preacher
     Then I grew up to be a fireman
     Put out every fire in town
     Put out anything smokin'
     But when I put the hose down
     The judge sent me to prison
     He gave me life without parole
     Wish I never put the hose down
     Wish I never got old.

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