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I have sailed the world,
beheld its wonders
From the Dardanelles to
the mountains of Peru,
But there's no
place like London
No, there's no
place like London.
Mr. Todd-?
You are young.
Life has been kind to you.
You will learn.
There's a hole in the
world like a great black pit
And the vermin of
the world Inhabit it
And its morals aren't
worth what a pig could spit
And it goes by the name of London.
At the top of the hole
sit the privileged few
Making mock of the
vermin in the lower zoo,
turning beauty into filth and greed.
I too have sailed the world,
and seen its wonders
For the cruelty of men
is as wondrous as Peru,
but there's no
place like London!
Is everything all right, Mr. Todd?
I beg your indulgence, Anthony...
My mind is far from easy.
In these once familiar
streets I feel shadows
There was a barber and his wife,
and she was beautiful.
A foolish barber and his wife,
she was his reason and his life,
and she was beautiful,
and she was virtuous.
And he was... Naive.
There was another man who saw
that she was beautiful,
A pious vulture of the law,
who with a gesture of his claw
removed the barber from his plate.
Then there was nothing but to wait
and she would fall,
So soft,
So young,
So lost,
and oh, so beautiful!
And the lady, sir... did she succumb?
Oh, that was many years ago...
I doubt if anyone would know.
I'd like to thank you, Anthony.
If you hadn't spotted me,
I'd be lost on the ocean still...
Will I see you again?
You might find me, if you like,
around Fleet Street.
Until then, my friend.
There's a hole in the world
like a great black pit
and it's filled with people
who are filled with shit
And the vermin of
the world inhabit it...
A customer!
Wait! What's your rush?
What's your hurry?
You gave me such a- Fright.
I thought you was a ghost.
Half a minute, can't you? Sit!
Sit ye down!
All I meant is that I haven't
seen a customer for weeks.
Did you come here for a pie, sir?
Do forgive me if me head's
a little vague- Ugh!
What is that? But you'd think
we had the plague-
From the way that people-
Keep avoiding-
No, you don't!
These are probably
the worst pies in London.
But there's no one comes in
even to inhale-
Right you are, sir.
Would you like a drop of ale?
Mind you, I can't hardly blame them-
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.
Is that just disgusting?
You have to concede it.
It's nothing but crusting-
Here, drink this, you'll need it-
The worst pies in London.
And no wonder with the price of meat.
What it is-
When you get it.
Thought I'd live to see the day
men'd think it was a treat
Finding poor
wot are dying in the street.
Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop,
Does a business, but I noticed
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-
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!
Ah sir, times is hard.
Times is hard.
Trust me, dearie, it's going to take
more than ale
to wash that taste out.
Come with me and we'll get
you a nice tumbler of gin.
Isn't this homey now?
Me cheery wallpaper was
a real bargain too,
it being only partly singed when the
chapel burnt down...
There's a good boy, now you sit down
and warm your bones,
Isn't that a room over the shop?
If times are so hard,
why don't you rent it out?
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