This is the official Sweeney Todd prayer, yeah I was really bored.


Our father who art in Fleet street,
Hallowed be thy name,
Thy revenge will come,
on earth as it is in London,
give us our daily shavings,
and forgive us our appetite,
as we forgive those who has a bigger appetite,
Save us from Judge Turpin,
and deliver us from all meat pies,
For Sweeney Todd, Mrs Lovett, Tobias now and forever

Amen


uǝɯɐ

ɹǝʌǝɹoɟ puɐ ʍou sɐıqoʇ `ʇʇǝʌol sɹɯ `ppoʇ ʎǝuǝǝʍs ɹoɟ
`sǝıd ʇɐǝɯ llɐ ɯoɹɟ sn ɹǝʌılǝp puɐ
`uıdɹnʇ ǝƃpnɾ ɯoɹɟ sn ǝʌɐs
`ǝʇıʇǝddɐ ɹǝƃƃıq ɐ sɐɥ oɥʍ ǝsoɥʇ ǝʌıƃɹoɟ ǝʍ sɐ
`ǝʇıʇǝddɐ ɹno sn ǝʌıƃɹoɟ puɐ
`sƃuıʌɐɥs ʎlıɐp ɹno sn ǝʌıƃ
`uopuol uı sı ʇı sɐ ɥʇɹɐǝ uo
`ǝɯoɔ llıʍ ǝƃuǝʌǝɹ ʎɥʇ
`ǝɯɐu ʎɥʇ ǝq pǝʍollɐɥ
`ʇǝǝɹʇs ʇǝǝlɟ uı ʇɹɐ oɥʍ ɹǝɥʇɐɟ ɹno

Pretty women
Fascinating...
Sipping coffee,
Dancing... pretty women
Pretty women
Are a wonder.
Pretty women!

Sitting in the window or
Standing on the stair
Something in them cheers the air.

Pretty women
Silhouetted...
Stay within you,
Glancing... stay forever,
Breathing lightly...
Pretty women,
Pretty women!

Blowing out their candles or
Combing out their hair,
Even when they leave
They still are there.
They're there

Ah! Pretty women, at their mirrors,
In their gardens,
Letter-writing,
Flower-picking,
Weather-watching.
How they make a man sing!

Proof of heaven as you're living,
Pretty women! Yes, pretty women!
Here's to pretty women,
Pretty women,
Pretty women,
Pretty women

Johanna:
Green finch, and linnet bird,
Nightingale, blackbird,
How is it wewe sing?
How can wewe jubilate
sitting in cages
never taking wing?
Outside the sky waits
beckoning!
Beckoning!
Just beyond the bars...
How can wewe remain
staring at the rain
maddened kwa the stars?
How is it wewe sing
anything?
How is it wewe sing?
Green finch. and linnet bird,
nightingale, blackbird
How is it wewe sing?
Whence comes this melody
constantly floating?
Is it rejoicing au merely aloaming?
Are wewe discussing?
au fussing?
au simply dreaming?
Are wewe crowing?
Are wewe screaming?
Ringdove and robinet
is it for wages?
imba to be sold?
Have wewe decided it's safer in cages
imba when you're told?
My cage has many rooms
damask and dark...
Nothing there sings,
not even my lark.
Larks never will, wewe know,
when they're captive.
Teach me to be more
adaptive.
Ah...
Green Finch, and Linnet Bird,
nightingale, blackbird,
teach me how to sing.
If I cannot fly...
Let me sing.