Mack The Knife Lyrics

Oh, the shark has pretty teeth dear

And he shows 'em, pearly white

Just a jack knife has Macheath dear

And he keeps it way out of sight

When that shark bites with his teeth, dear

Scarlet billows begin to spread

Fancy gloves though has Macheath dear

So there's never, never a trace of red

On the sidewalk, one Sunday morning

Lies a body, oozin' life

Someone's sneaking 'round the corner

Could that someone be Mack the Knife

From a tugboat, on the river going slow

A cement bag is dropping on down

You know that cement is for the weight dear

You can make a large bet Mackie's back in town

My man Louis Miller, he split the scene babe

After drawing out all the bread from his stash

Now Macheath spends like a sailor

Do you suppose our boy, he's done something rash

Old Satchmo, Louis Armstrong, Bobby Darrin

Did this song nice, Lady Ella too

They all sang it, with so much feeling

That Old Blue Eyes, he ain't gonna add nothing new

But with his big band, jumping behind me

Swinging hard, Jack, I now I can't lose

When I tell you, all about Mack the Knife babe

It's an offer, you can never refuse

We got Patrick Williams, Bill Miller playing that piano

And this great big band, bringing up the rear

All the band cats, in this band now

They make the greatest sounds, you're never gonna hear

Oh Sookie Taudry, Jenny Diver, Polly Peachum, Old Miss Lulu Brown

Hey the line forms, on the right dear

Now that Macheath's back in town

You'd better lock your doors, and call the law

Because Macheath's back in town

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?