Lyrics: Marianne Faithfull. 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?