| Lay way back you cats, dig in
|
| Live a while, yes, Mr. Mack is movin' in
|
| Though the shark has, pretty teeth, dear
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| And he shows 'em pearly whites
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| Just a jackknife has Mac Heath, dear
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| And he keeps it, well out of sight
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| When the shark bites, with his teeth, dear
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| Scarlet billows start to spread
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| Fancy gloves, though, wears Mac Heath, dear
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| So there’s not a trace of red
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| On the sidewalk, Sunday mornin'
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| Lies a body oozin' life
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| Someones sneakin' 'round the corner
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| Is that someone Mack the Knife?
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| From a tugboat, by the river
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| A cement bag droppin' down
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| The cement, that’s just for the weight, dear
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| I’ll bet you Macky’s back in town
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| Mr. Miller, disappeared, dear
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| After drawin' out all of his cash
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| Went tap city, and Mac Heath spends like a sailor
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| Did our boy do, somethin' rash?
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| Sukey Tawdry, Jenny Diver
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| Polly Peacham, Miss Lucy Brown
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| Oh, the line forms on the right, dear
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| Now that Macky’s back in town |