And he wears them in his face
And Macheath has got a knife
But not in such an obvious place
Now see the shark, how red his fins are
As he slashes at his prey
Mack the Knife wears fancy gloves
Which gives a minimum away
By the Thames’ turbid waters
Men abruptly tumble down
Well is it plague, or is it cholera
Or because Macky’s in town?
And the child bride, in her nighty
Whose assailant’s still at large
Violated in her slumbers
Macky how much did you charge?
In the ghastly fire in Soho
Seven children had a go
In the crowd stands Mack the Knife
But he isn’t asked and he don’t know
In the crowd stands Mack The Knife
But he ain’t asked and he don’t know