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 ? --- Mack the Knife - Marianne Faithfull