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"The Worst Pies In London" Lyrics

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Mrs. Lovett:
A customer!
(Todd starts out in alarm)
Wait! What's yer rush? What's yer hurry?
(She sticks the knife into the counter)
You gave me such a—
(She wipes her hands on her apron)
Fright. I thought you was a ghost.

Half a minute, can'tcher?
Sit! Sit ye down!
(Forcefully)
Sit!
All I meant is that I
Haven't seen a customer for weeks.
Did you come here for a pie, sir?
(Todd nods. She flicks a bit of dust off a pie with her rag)
Do forgive me if my head's a little vague—
Ugh!
(She plucks something off a pie, holds it up)
What is that?
But you'd think we had the plague—
(She drops it on the floor and stamps on it)
From the way that people—
(She flicks something off a pie with her finger)
Keep avoiding—
(Spotting it moving)
No you don't!
(She smacks with her hand)
Heaven knows I try, sir!
(Lifts her hand, looks at it)
Ick!
(She wipes it on the edge of the counter)
But there's no one comes in even to inhale—
Tsk!
(She blows the last dust off the pie as she brings it to him)
Right you are, sir. would you like a drop of ale?
(Todd nods)

Mind you, I can't hardly blame them—
(Pouring a tankard of ale)
These are probably the worst pies in London,
I know why nobody cares to take them—
I should know,
I make them.
But good? No,
The worst pies in London—
Even that's polite.
The worst pies in London—
If you doubt it take a bite.
(He does)

Todd:
Ugh!

Mrs. Lovett:
Is that just, disgusting?
You have to concede it.
It's nothing but crusting—
Here drink this, you'll need it—
(She puts the ale in front of him)
The worst pies in London—
(During the following, she slams lumps of dough on
the counter and rolls them out)
And no wonder with the price of meat
What it is
(Grunts)
When you get it.
(Grunts)
Never
(Grunts)
Thought I'd live to see the day men'd think it was a treat
Finding poor
(Grunts)
Animals
(Grunts)
Wot are dying in the street.

Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop,
Does a business, but I notice something weird—
Lately, all her neighbors' cats have disappeared.
Have to hand it to her—
Wot I calls
Enterprise,
Popping pussies into pies.
Wouldn't do in my shop—
Just the thought of it's enough to make you sick.
And I'm telling you them pussy cats is quick.

No denying times is hard, sir—
Even harder than
The worst pies in London.
Only lard and nothing more—
(As Todd gamely tries another mouthful)
Is that just revolting?
All greasy and gritty,
It looks like it's molting,
And tastes like—
Well, pity
A woman alone
With limited wind
And the worst pies in London!
(Sighs heavily)
Ah sir, times is hard.
Times is hard.

(She finishes one of the crusts with a flourish, then notices
Todd having difficulty with his pie)
[Spoken]
Spit it out, dear. Go on. On the floor. There's worse things than
that down there.
(He does)
That's my boy.
song info:
Verified yes
LanguageEnglish
GenreMusical
Rank
Duration00:03:11
Charts
Copyright ©
Writer
Lyrics licensed byLyricFind
AddedFebruary 9th, 2010
Last updatedMarch 7th, 2022
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