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 sleep

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 your man cruising 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's 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 ?