MRS. LOVETT: A customer!
Wait! What's yer rush? What's yer hurry?
You gave me such a —
Fright. I thought you was a ghost.
Half a minute, can'tcher?
Sit! Sit ye down!
Sit!
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 —
What is that?
But you'd think we had the plague —
From the way that people —
Keep avoiding —
No you don't!
Heaven knows I try, sir!
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.
Never
Thought I'd live to see the day men'd think it was a treat
Finding poor
Animals
Wot are dying in the street.
Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop,
Does a business, but I notice 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.
