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? Seat ye 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!