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 ?