Attend the tale of Sweeney ToddHis skin was pale and his eye was oddHe shaved the faces of gentlemenWho never thereafter were heard of againHe trod a path that few have trodDid Sweeney ToddThe demon barber of Fleet Street
He kept a shop in London TownOf fancy clients and good renownAnd what if none of their souls were saved?They went to their maker impeccably shavedBy SweeneyBy Sweeney ToddThe demon barber of Fleet Street
Swing your razor wide, SweeneyHold it to the skiesFreely flows the blood of those who moralize
His needs were few, his room was bareA lavabo and a fancy chairA mug of suds and a leather stropAn apron, a towel, a pail and a mopFor neatness he deserves a nodDoes Sweeney ToddThe demon barber of Fleet Street
Inconspicuous, Sweeney wasQuick and quiet and clean, he wasBack of his smile, under his wordSweeney heard music that nobody heard
Sweeney pondered and Sweeney plannedLike a perfect machine, he plannedSweeney was smooth, Sweeney was subtleSweeney would blink, and rats would scuttle
Inconspicuous Sweeney wasQuick and quiet and like a perfect machine, he wasWas SweeneyKeen he was, was SweeneySweeney, Sweeney, Sweeney, SweeneySweeney
Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd(Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd)He served a dark and a vengeful god(He served a dark and a vengeful god)What happened then, well, that’s the playAnd he wouldn’t want us to give it awayNot SweeneyNot Sweeney ToddThe demon barber of Fleet Street
