The Worst Pies in London

Imelda StauntonImelda Staunton 

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Imelda Staunton

Imelda Mary Philomena Bernadette Staunton, (born 9 January 1956) is an English stage and screen actress. After training at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, Staunton began her career in repertory theatre in the 1970s before appearing in seasons at various theatres in the UK. Staunton has since performed in a variety of plays and musicals in London, winning four Olivier Awards; three for Best Actress in a Musical for her roles as the Baker's Wife in Into the Woods (1991), Mrs. Lovett in Sweeney Todd (2013) and Madame Rose in Gypsy (2016), and one for Best Supporting Performance for her work in both A Chorus of Disapproval (1985) and The Corn is Green (1985). Her appearances on stage in The Beggar's Opera (1982), The Wizard of Oz (1987), Uncle Vanya (1988), G… more »

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Wait, what's your rush, what's your hurry?
You gave me such a fright
I thought you was a ghost
Half a minute, can't you sit? Sit you 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
Ugh, what is that?
Bet you'd think we had the plague
From the way the people keep avoiding
No, you don't
Heaven knows I try, sir
Ugh, but there's no one even comes in to inhale
Right you are, sir, 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 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
What are dying in the street

Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop
Does her business but I noticed something weird
Lately all her neighbors cats have disappeared
Have to hand it to her, what I calls 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 pussy cats is quick

No denying times is hard, sir
Even harder then 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

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