,

Oh, the shark has. Pretty teeth dear. And he shows 'em, pearly white. Just the jack knife, has Macheath, dear. And he keeps it... Out of sight. You know when the shark bites. With his teeth dear. Scarlet billows, start to spread. Fancy gloves though has Macheath, dear. So there's rarley, never one trace of red. On the sidewalk, one sunday morning don't you know. Lies a body, just oozing life. Someone sneaking, around the corner. Could that someone, be Mack the Knife?