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?