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 [bad word] bullets 
Load up, load up, load up [bad word] 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 [bad word] 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 [bad word] 
He said Blood will flow; 
Here Padre 
Padre you talk to your boys...  [bad word] in me - 
God [bad word] to set you free 
Well we don't understand 
Why you called in the National Guard 
When Uncle Sam is the one 
Who belongs in the exercise yard 
We all got balls and brains 
But some's got balls and chains 
At the local dance at the local county jail 
Load up, load up, load up [bad word] bullets 
Load up, load up, load up [bad word] bullets 
Is it really such a crime 
For a guy to spend his time 
At the local dance at the local county jail 
At the local dance at the local county jail 
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do 
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do