I went to a party at the local county jail

All the cons were dancing and the band began to wail

But the guys were indiscreet

They were brawling in the street

At the local dance at the local county jail

Well the band were playing

And the booze began to flow

But the sound came over on the police car radio

Down at Precinct 49

Having a tear-gas of a time

Sergeant Baker got a call from the governor of the county jail

Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets

Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets

I love to hear those convicts squeal

It's a shame these slugs ain't real

But we can't have dancin' at the local county jail

Sergeant Baker and his men made a bee-line for the jail

And for miles around

You could hear the sirens wail

There's a rumor goin' round death row

That a fuse is gonna blow

At the local hop at the local county jail

Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do

Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do

Sergeant Baker started talkin'

With a bullhorn in his hand

He was cool, he was clear

He was always in command

He said