© 1994 by Betty E. Covey
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick.
Jack get out your stabbing-stick.
Get out your switchblade; get out your gun.
Get out your chains; we’ll have some fun.
The other gang’s already there.
Right on the corner, and they won’t fight fair.
You’re the boss! Let’s knock ’em dead!
Shoot, Jack! Fill ’em full of lead!
Uh, oh! Too late. The fuzz are here.
They’re shooting, too, and well, I fear.
Too bad. Poor sod. They’ve hit their mark.
Jack’s just become a copper’s mark.