Y'see, I've got this problem; I don't like cops
And cops don't like me (Bitches leave)
Can you fly Bobby? Dick Jones! Dick Jones!
What is this shit? Dick Jones! Dick Jones!
I work for OCP, Dick Jones! Dick Jones!
OCP runs the cops
Too deep in yearning we need
something to hold, and something to keep
Innocent eyes could not realize
the meaning of "destiny"
But someday I promise that
you’ll start to notice what’s there on your shoulders someday -
Wings that are strong,
they will guide you along to the future that holds your fate!
Let me tell you a cruel angel’s thesis -
Flying high from the window, finding egress
There is something betraying all my memories,
burning pathos, emotion overwhelming!