Lyric Mack the Knife

Oh, the poor shark,
Yes, the sweet shark,
It has big teeth
Buried deep.

Then there s Macheath
With his big knife,
But it s hidden
In his slip.

And this same shark,
This poor sweet shark,
It sheds red blood
When it bleeds.

Mackie Big Knife
Wears a white glove,
Pure in word and
Pure in deed.

Sunday morning
Lovely blue sky,
There s a corpse stretched
On the Strand.

Who s the man cruisin
The corner ?
Well, it s Mackie,
Knife in hand.

Jenny Towler
Poor wee Jenny,
There they found her
Knife in breast.

Mackie s wandering
On the West Pier
Hoping only
For the best.

Mind, that fire burnt
All through Soho.
Seven kids dead
One old flower.

Hey there, Mackie,
How is she cuttin ?
Have another,
Hold your hour.

And those sweet babes
Under sixteen
Story goes that
Black and blue

For the price of
One good screwing
Mackie, Mackie,
How could you ?

For the price of
One good screwing
Mackie, Mackie,
How could you ?