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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Frank Sinatra
Frank Sinatra
Vocals
Quincy Jones
Quincy Jones
Conductor
Quincy Jones and His Orchestra
Quincy Jones and His Orchestra
Orchestra
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Marc Blitzstein
Marc Blitzstein
Songwriter
Kurt Weill
Kurt Weill
Songwriter
Bertolt Brecht
Bertolt Brecht
Songwriter
Frank Foster
Frank Foster
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Quincy Jones
Quincy Jones
Producer
Charles Pignone
Charles Pignone
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Oh, the shark has pretty teeth, dear
And he shows 'em, pearly white
Just a jack knife has MacHeath, dear
And he keeps it, keeps it way out of sight
[Verse 2]
When that shark bites with his teeth, dear
Scarlet billows, they begin to spread
Fancy white gloves though has MacHeath, dear
So there's really never one trace of red
[Verse 3]
On the sidewalk one Sunday morning
Lies a body, oozin' life
Someone's sneakin' 'round the corner
Could that someone perhaps, perchance be Mack the Knife?
[Verse 4]
From a tugboat on the river goin' slow
A cement bag, it is droppin' down
Yeah, the cement is just for the weight, dear
You can make a large bet, Mack, he is back in town
[Verse 5]
My man, Louie Miller, he split the scene, babe
After drawin' out all the bread from his stash
Now MacHeath spends just like a pimp, babe
Do you suppose that our boy, he did somethin' rash?
[Verse 6]
Old Satchmo, Louis Armstrong, Bobby Darin
They did this song nice, Lady Ella too
They all sang it with so much feeling
That Ol' Blue Eyes, he ain't gonna add nothin' new
[Verse 7]
But with Quincy's big band right behind me
Swingin' hard, Jack, I know I can't lose
When I tell you all about Mack the Knife, babe
It's an offer you can never refuse
[Verse 8]
We got George Benson, we got Newman Foster
We the Breaker Brothers and Hampton's bringin' up the rear
All these bad cats and more are in the band now
They make the greatest sounds you ever gonna hear
[Verse 9]
Hey, Sookie Tawdry, Jenny Diver
Polly Peachum, oh Miss Lulu Brown
Oh, the line forms on the right, dear
Now that MacHeath, I mean that man
MacHeath, yeah, he's bad, mercy, mercy
Yeah, he's badder than ol' Leroy Brown
You better lock your door and call the law
Because MacHeath, that bum, he's back in town
Written by: Bertolt Brecht, Kurt Weill
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