Herr - Rubs
.
It was a dark and dismal night, in the
depths of District two,
Things had gotten quiet, the dealers
were so few.
No crimes could we uncover, no places
we could raid,
We all could be in government, do nothing
and get paid.
.
Or maybe be a fireman, I'm in this way
too deep,
But, instead of working nightshift, getting
paid to sleep.
They found a new solution, Gord and Robin
went to score,
They abandoned us in District Two, and
moved to District Four.
.
Moving from the busy spot, to a life
of luxury,
Summertime on Beach Patrol, in their
thongs for all to see.
Their handcuffs they can throw away,
it really is no test,
They'll look at us in wonderment, when
we say the word arrest.
.
While we are running all around, with
calls to come in store,
The twosome will be searching for, Latte
number four.
And if perchance, alarm bells ring, they
will barely bat their eyes,
Another call in District Two, it comes
as no surprise.
.
Lounging down near Kits Beach, their
feet up on the dash,
Coffees set beside them, peanuts in their
stash.
They'll be sorting through their papers,
stacked there in a bunch,
Arguments go back and forth, of where
they'll have their lunch.
.
Despite all that! We wish them well,
Gord and Robin too,
We hope that they remember us, their
Squad from District Two.
While they sip their lattes, on a legal
sixty-one,
We know they will recall right then,
the action and the fun.
.
PC 664 T.J. Gowdyk 97-04-13 (148)