Lyrics
I am Adolfo Pirelli
Da king of da barbers, da barber of kings
E buon giorno, good day
I blow you a kiss!

And I, da so-famous Pirelli
I wish-a to know
Who has-a da nerve-a to say
My elixir is-a piss!
Who says this?

I do
I am Mr. Sweeney Todd
I have opened this bottle of Pirelli's elixir
And I say to you it is nothing but an arrant fraud
And furthermore-"Signor"-I have serviced no kings
Yet I wager that I can shave a cheek and pull a tooth
With ten times more dexterity than any street mountebank!

You hear zis foolish-a man? Watch and-a see how he will regret his-a folly!

Will Beadle Bamford be the judge?

Glad, as always, to oblige my friends and neighbors Ready?

Ready!

Ready

The fastest, smoothest shave is the winner

Now, signorini, signori
We mix-a da lather
But first-a you gather
Around, signorini, signori
You looking a man
Who have had-a da glory
To shave-a da Pope!
Mr Sweeney-so-smart
Oh, I beg-a your pardon-'ll
Call me a liar, was-a only a cardinal
Nope!
It was-a da Pope!

Perhaps, signorini, signori
You'd like-a I tell-a
Da famous-a story
Of Queen Isabella
Da queen of-a Polan
Whose toot' was-a swollen
I pull it so nice from her mout'
That-a though to begin she's a screaming-a murder
She's later-a swoon-a with bliss an' was heard-a
To shout
"Pull all of them out!"
To shave-a da face
To pull-a da toot'
Require da grace
And not-a da brute
For if-a you slip
You nick da skin
You clip-a da chin
You rip-a da lip a bit
And that's-a da trut'!

To shave-a da face
Or even a part
Widout it-a smart
Require da heart
It take-a da art
I show you a chart
I study-a starting in my yout'!

To cut-a da hair
To trim-a da beard
To make-a da bristle
Clean like a whistle
Dis is from early infancy
Da talent give to me
By God!
It take-a da skill
It take-a da brains
It take-a da will
To take-a da pains
It take-a da pace
It take-a da grace

The winner is Todd!

And now, who's for a tooth pulling-free without charge!

Oh, me, sir
Me, sir

Who else? No one?
Then, sir, since there is no means to test the second skill
I claim the victory

Wait! One moment Wait! You, boy! Get on that chair!

Me, Signor? Not a tooth, sir, I beg of you!
I ain't got a twinge, not the slightest pain

You do now! We see who is zee victor now!

Ready?

Ready!

Ready

To pull-a da toot'
Widout-a da skill
Can damage da root
Now hold-a da still!
An' if-a you slip
You grip a bit
You hit da pit of it
Or chip-a da tip
And have-a to fill

To pull-a da toot'
Widout-a da grace
You leave-a da space
All over da place
You try to erase
Widout-a da trace
Sometimes is da case
You even-a kill

To hold-a da clamp
Widout-a da cramp
Wid all dat saliva
It could-a drive-a
You crazy
Don' mutter
Or back-a you go to da gutter!
My touch is as light as a butter-a
Cup!

I take-a da pains
I learn-a da art
I use-a da brains
I give-a da heart
I have-a da grace
I win-a da race!
I give-a da up

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Stephen Sondheim




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