The Contest

I am Adolfo Pirelli The king of the barbers, the barber of kings E buon giorno, good day I blow you a kiss And I, the so famous Pirelli I wish-a to know-a who has-a the nerve-a to say My elixir is piss! Who says this? I do I'm Mr. Sweeney Todd of Fleet Street I have opened a bottle of Pirelli's Elixir and I say to you That it's nothing but an errant fraud, concocted from piss and ink Furthermore, Signor, I have serviced no kings Yet I wager that I can shave a cheek with ten times more dexterity Than any street mountebank You hear this foolish man? Now please, you will see 'ow he will-a regret-a his-a folly! Who's for a free shave? Will Beadle Bamford be the judge? Glad, as always to oblige my friends and neighbours! The fastest, smoothest shave, is the winner! Now signorini, signori, we mix-a the lather But first-a you gather around Signorini, signori, you looking a man Who had-a the glory to shave-a the pope Mister Sweeney, whoever, I beg-a the pardon He'll probably say-a it was only a cardinal, nope! It was-a the pope! To shave-a the face To cut-a the hair Require the grace Require the flare For if-a you slip You nick the skin You clip-a the chin You rip-a the lip a bit beyond-a repair To shave-a the face Or even a part Without it-a smart Require the heart Not just-a the flash It take-a panache It take-a the passion for the art To shave-a the face To trim-a the beard To make-a the bristle Clean like a whistle This is from early infancy The talent give to me by God It take-a the skill It take-a the brains It take-a the will To take-a the pains It take-a the pace It take-a the grace The winner, is Todd!