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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 16:06:44 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 1658
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Dixon of Dock Green
[time] => 2002-08-03 08:05:38
[hometext] => Wonderful British Justice!
[bodytext] => Our wonderful Bobbies on the beat
Now have cars instead of feet “Evening all “ with a friendly nod, Whatever happened to PC Plod? The woman was found in a pool of blood, You’d fetch a policeman if you could. Drive your car up to the shops Passed thirty-seven traffic cops. Need a car – “Go nick one then!” And why stop at one it could be ten If you’re caught (the chance is remote) They’ll send you off on a plane or boat. Don’t drive too fast, speed kills (And fines help pay policemen’s’ bills) Don’t ever expect them to get their man Why bother when you can take the can! “I didn’t do it, I wasn’t there” Now sir, don’t tell the truth, that’s not fair. you must be guilty we are never wrong just sign this statement, it won’t take long. Lock him away for fifteen years With a colour TV and a couple of beers. We’ll let you out early if you’re not a pain Then you can go home and do it again. The Chiefs say it’s not their fault they’re crap That the police are caught in a poverty trap No money for equipment or men they bleat So get em out of their cars and onto their feet. ©Rosewing [comments] => 2 [counter] => 179 [topic] => 41 [informant] => Rosewing [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 11 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => political )
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