Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

l know, l know
Can't you think of nothing else? Always brooding away on your wrongs
Surely a sign that Johanna wants me to help her.
-Mr. Todd! Mrs. Lovett, ma'am? -What is it, Anthony?
Sit, sir. Sit.
ln the meantime I'll practice on less honorable throats
l think there's been some mistake.
Poor thing
If you doubt it, take a bite
Pretty women
The history of the world, my pet
Hear the birdies cheeping Helps to keep it cheery
Oh, well. Let him bring her here.
It take-a the pace It take-a the grace
I feel you
No, it's not. Just something Mr. T gave me for my birthday.
Yes, sir. The Bountiful, out of Plymouth.
Do they think that walls can hide you?
The cheery wallpaper was a real bargain, too.
And I say to you that it is nothing but an arrant fraud!
Nope!
-I'll keep telling you -When?
Around Fleet Street, l wouldn't wonder.
Soon will come Soon will last
Yes, sir.
Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlor,
Pretty women!
He didn't have your nice head of hair, though.
You see, ma'am why there's no meat pie
Business never better using only pussycats and toast
l lay them against £5.
He certainly does.
No, we all deserve to die
It's fop Finest in the shop
Gillyflowers, maybe 'Stead of daisies
Don't you think some flowers Pretty daisies
What ought not to be there?
This is piss. Piss with ink.
-...they still... -...they somehow can still remain...
You told me to wait! Now he'll never come again!
I thought I could trust you
That's the great Judge Turpin's house, that is.
Now, please, you will see how he will-a regret-a his-a folly.
You there, my friend
Benjamin Barker?
Forgive me if I suggest, my lord
As the gourmets among you will tell you, of course
I've been thinking flowers Maybe daisies
Had, has
Minecraft, yes.
but l do hate to see a boy treated like that.
When they came for the girl, l hid them.
Sit down, lad, sit down.
-At their mirrors -In their gardens
Could you tell me whose house this is?
Thank you, Your Honor.
-Blowing out their candles -Blowing out their candles
Even that's polite The worst pies in London
No one's gonna hurt you No one's gonna dare
Do you wake every morning in shame and despair
Ready?
But always arrives overdone
Wait
Sleep now the untroubled
Soothing skin massage?
Debts to be erased
Well, l've come home
l too have sailed the world and seen its wonders
Outside the sky waits Beckoning, beckoning
Until?
-She has? -Oh, yes.
-That those above -That those above
Mr. Todd?
-Won't they? Think of all them pies! -How choice! How rare!
Home
-What man has not? -Sorry?