Victim: Let me tell you 'bout who robbed me.
Two hundred pounds, 'bout six-foot-three.

Sgt. Joe Friday: Are those the facts, ma'am?
Are they the facts, ma'am?

His gun, was it big? Was it small?
The robber, did he take it all?
Now, just the facts, ma'am.
Yes, just the facts, ma'am.

Did he drive a car? What was the make?
Did you see him leave? Drive toward the lake?
Did he take some food? Sandwich or cake?
Did he have a beard? Or was it fake?

Facts, ma'am!
(guitar break)

Don't tell me that he made you cry
(Uh-huh, Sergeant Friday!)
if you want me to get that guy.
(Uh-huh, Sergeant Smith!)
I want the facts, ma'am.
Yes, just the facts, ma'am.

It might help me to get this guy...
(Facts, ma'am!)
What was the color of his eyes?
(Facts, ma'am!)
Now, just the facts, ma'am.
Yes, just the facts, ma'am.
'Cause I work for the L.A.P.D.
(Facts, ma'am!)
(guitar fades us out)