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Sweeney Todd

Poor Thing Lyrics - Sweeney Todd

Isn't there a room up there over the pie shop? 

If times are so hard why don't you rent it out? 

That should bring in something 

Up there, oh no, no one will go near it, people think its haunted 

You see, years ago something happened up there 

Something not very nice 

 

There was a barber and his wife 

And he was beautiful 

A proper artist with a knife 

But they transported him for life 

And he was beautiful 

 

Barker his name was, Benjamin Barker 

Transported? What was his crime? 

Foolishness 

 

He had this wife, you see 

Pretty little thing, silly little nit 

Had her chance for the moon on a string 

Poor thing, poor thing 

 

There were these two, you see 

Wanted her like mad, one of them a judge 

T'other one his beadle 

Everyday they'd nudge and they'd weedle 

But she wouldn't budge from her needle 

Too bad, pure thing 

 

So they merely shipped the poor blighter off south, they did 

Leaving her with nothing but grief and a year-old kid 

Did she use her head even then? Oh no, God forbid 

Poor fool, ah, but there was worse yet to come 

Poor thing 

 

Joanna, that was the child's name 

Pretty little Joanna, go on 

My, you do like a good story, don't you? 

 

Well, Beadle calls on her all polite 

Poor thing, poor thing 

The judge, he tells her, is all contrite 

He blames himself for her dreadful plight 

She must come straight to his house tonight 

Poor thing, poor thing 

 

Of course when she goes there 

Poor thing, poor thing 

They're having this ball all in masks 

There's no one she knows there 

Poor dear, poor thing 

 

She wonders, tormented and drinks 

Poor thing 

The judge has repented, she thinks 

Poor thing 

"Oh, where is Judge Turpin?" she asks 

He was there, alright, only not so contrite 

 

She wasn't no match for such craft, you see 

And everyone thought it so droll 

They figured she had to be daft, you see 

So all of them stood there and laughed, you see 

Poor soul, poor thing 

 

No, would no one have mercy on her? 

So it is you, Benjamin Barker 

Writer:

Copyright: Rilting Music, Inc.