They swagger into the convenience store Sullen in their grotesque tats and shabby tees Shaven heads, unshaven faces, gas-station shades Old roach-stompers, unwashed jeans, bad-/ss bling
A big ol’ Glock .45 on every man’s hip Manly-man Velcro tactical gear Beer-guts rolling over their leather belts More than a hint of menace in their eyes
These are our local deputies, of course - Our criminals usually show a little more class
(There is no one I admire more than a proper copper, but until local governments provide better training, better pay, better backup, and meaningful benefits to our police we’re going to have to suffer the leather-boy Barneys.)