|
His skin was pale and his eye was odd.
He shaved the faces of gentlemen
Who never thereafter were heard of again.
He trod a path that few have trod,
Did Sweeny Todd, The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
He kept a shop in London Town
Of fancy clients and good renown.
And what if none of their souls were saved?
They went to their
Maker impeccably shaved by Sweeny,
By Sweeny Todd, The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
Swing your razor wide, Sweeny,
Hold it to the skies!
Freely flows the blood of those who moralize.
His need were few, his room was bare:
a lavabo and a fancy chair,
A mug of suds and a leather strop,
An apron, a towel, a pail and a mop.
For neatness, he deserves a nod.
Does Sweeny Todd,, The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.
In conspicuous Sweeny was,
Quick and quite and clean 'e was.
Back of his smile, under his word,
Sweeny heard music that nobody heard.
Sweeny pondered and Sweeny planned,
Like a perfect machine 'e planned
Sweeny was smooth, Sweeny was subtle,
Sweeny would blink and rats would scuttle.
Sweeny! Sweeny! Sweeny! Sweeny!
Sweeny!
Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd.
He served a dark and a vengeful god.
What happened then, well that's the play,
And he wouldn't want us to give it away. Not Sweeney,
Not Sweeney Todd, The demon barber of Fleet Street.
Sweeny Todd by Stephen Soundheim
|
Printer-friendly format
Email this thread to a friend
Bookmark this thread
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
