2012 Broadway revival The Mystery of Edwin Drood - The Wages of Sin Lyrics
The song is written by Rupert Holmes.
Princess Puffer: Crime don't pay...that's what I tells 'em. If it did, would I be here mixing pipes, Wot then I sells 'em for a pint of rotten beer? Throats you cut to pocket tuppence, Then you slut to cop some sleep. Bash a face for bleedin' tuppence - pure disgrace to work so cheap.
So I say, don't be a sinner for the price of London gin. You can't pay for one square dinner with the wages of sin. Sell my soul? 'Cor love, come off it! Who would buy this sack of skin? On the whole, there ain't much profit in the wages of sin. I've seen girls from gutter fam'lies trap rich men with flutt'ry ways, And they coo, "Cor, pass the jam please," Over nuptial breakfast trays, Over there in bed eleven sleeps a bleedin' hypocrite. Spends his days eyes cast to 'eaven; Spends his nights among this sh-
S' why I say, don't take half-measures, Do things right and dig right in. In this world, there's greater treasures than the wages of sin. I get threats, but seldom offers. If I did, I'd pack it in. You can't fill too many coffers with the wages of sin.
[Thanks to Liza for lyrics]
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The Mystery of Edwin Drood the Musical Lyrics
SYNOPSIS There You Are A Man Could Go Quite Mad Two Kinsmen Moonfall Quartet The Wages of Sin Moonfall Ceylon Both Sides of the Coin Perfect Strangers No Good Can Come from Bad Never The Luck Off to the Races Settling Up the Score Don't Quit While You're Ahead The Garden Path to Hell Out on a Limerick Jasper's Confession Rosa's Confession Puffer's Confession The Writing on the Wall
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