Lyrics of ' La complainte de Mackie ' by Boris Vian

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Les dents longues, redoutables
Le requin tue sans merci
Le surin au fond d'la poche
Sans reproche, c'est Mackie

Sur les bords de la Tamise
Le sang coule dans la nuit
On périt les poches vides
Poches pleines, quelqu'un fuit

Gens de bien ou hommes riches
Disparaissent au grand jour
Sur leurs traces, quelqu'un passe
Qui ramène le butin

Jenny Trowler agonise
Un couteau entre les seins
Sur les rives dans l'eau grise
M'sieur Mackie s'en lave les mains

Et la veuve d'âge tendre
Que l'on viole dans son lit
Que l'on vole sans attendre
Le gentleman, c'est Mackie

Le feu gronde dans la ville
Le feu brille, la mort vient
On s'étonne, on questionne
Oui mais Mackie ne sait rien

Le sang coule des mâchoires
Au repas du grand requin
Mains gantées et nappe blanche
M'sieur Mackie croque son prochain...

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It's important to note that Boris Vian, in live concerts, has not always been or will be faithful to the lyrics of the song La complainte de Mackie ... So it's better to focus on what the song La complainte de Mackie says on the record.

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