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    Quincy Jones / Lyrics

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    "Mack The Knife" Lyrics

    Quincy Jones

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    Oh, the shark has pretty teeth dear
    And he shows 'em, pearly white
    Just a jack knife has Macheath dear
    And he keeps it way out of sight

    When that shark bites with his teeth, dear
    Scarlet billows begin to spread
    Fancy gloves though has Macheath dear
    So there's never, never a trace of red

    On the sidewalk, one Sunday morning
    Lies a body, oozin' life
    Someone's sneaking 'round the corner
    Could that someone be Mack the knife

    From a tugboat, on the river going slow
    A cement bag is dropping on down
    You know that cement is for the weight dear
    You can make a large bet Mackie's back in town

    My man Louis Miller, he split the scene babe
    After drawing out all the bread from his stash
    Now Macheath spends like a sailor
    Do you suppose our boy, he's done something rash

    Old Satchmo, Louis Armstrong, Bobby Darrin
    Did this song nice, lady Ella too
    They all sang it, with so much feeling
    That old blue eyes, he ain't gonna add nothing new

    But with this big band, jumping behind me
    Swinging hard, jack, I now I can't lose
    When I tell you, all about Mack the knife babe
    It's an offer, you can never refuse

    We got Patrick Williams, bill miller playing that piano
    And this great big band, bringing up the rear
    All the band cats, in this band now
    They make the greatest sounds, you're ever gonna hear

    Oh Sookie Taudry, Jenny Diver, Polly Peachum, old miss lulu brown

    Hey the line forms, on the right dear
    Now that Macheath's back in town
    You'd better lock your doors, and call the law
    Because Macheath's back in town
    This song was submitted on March 14th, 2014 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Thanks to Snap for the contribution to this song.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Warner/chappell Music, Inc..
    Written by Bertolt Brecht, Eugen Berthold Brecht, Kurt Weill, Marc Blitzstein.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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