Mrs. Lovett (Helena Bonham Carter)


Mrs. Lovett: Wait!
What’s your rush?
What’s your hurry?

You gave me such a..
Fright I thought you was a ghost

’Ave a minute? Can’t you sit?
lets Seat you down, SIT!
All I meant is that I ’aven’t seen a customer fo’ weeks

Did you come in for a pie, sir?
Do forgive me if me ’ead’s a li’’le vague

What was that?

Bet you think we had the plague
From the way that people
Keep avoidin’

No, you don’t

Heaven knows I try, sir
But there’s no one comes in even to inhale
Right you are, so would you like a drop of ale?

Mind you, I can hardly blame them
These are probably the worst pies in London
I know why nobody cares to take them
I should know
I make ’em
But good no!

The worst pies in London

Even that's polite
The worst pies in London
If you dare to take a bite...

Is that just disgusting?
You’ll 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
Never

Thought I’d live to see the day

Many think it was a treat
Finding poor
Animals
What are dying in the street

Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop
Does her business but I notice somethin’ weird
Lately all our neighbour’s cats have disappeared

’Ave to hand it to her
What a coarse
Enterprise
Poppin’ pussies into pies

Wouldn’t do in my shop
Just the thought of it’s enough to make you sick
And I’m tellin’ you them pussycats is quick

No denying times is hard, sir
Even harder than the worst pies in London
Only lard and nothin’ more

Is that just revolting?
Or greasy?
And gritty?
It looks like
It’s moulting
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!