Pound of Flesh

Lyrics

Venice.
Sun's high. Canals are low.
Man needs a loan.
Needs it now, you know.

Antonio, big shot merchant.
Got ships out on the sea.
Says to Shylock, my man,
Need three thousand ducats from thee.
Just for three months.
My ships'll come in, you'll see.
I'll pay you back, no problem.
Just name your little fee.

Shylock smiles, but it don't reach his eyes.
Says, no interest, man. No, I'm a different size.
Let's call it a merry sport.
A little game of chance.
If you default on my ducats,
You give me more than a glance.
You give me an equal pound.
Of your own fair flesh.
Cut from wherever I please.
Kept nice and fresh.

Sign the bond, Antonio.
Three thousand ducats down.
Collateral is... carnal.
The talk of the whole town.
The ink ain't even dry yet,
But the scales are on the shelf.
A pound of flesh, my brother.
You only got yourself.

Three months go by like a fever dream.
The Rialto's buzzing, a nasty little theme.
The ships are wrecked, they're gone, they're sunk.
Antonio's credit is pure junk.
Shylock walks into the court of the Duke.
Got his knife sharpened, man, it ain't no fluke.
Brought his own scales to weigh the meat.
This ain't business, man. This is defeat.

Then some kid lawyer walks in,
Portia in a suit.
Says, "Tarry a little, Shylock."
Pulls him up by the root.
"The bond says flesh, yeah, that's the text.
But it don't say blood, man, what'd you expect?"
"Shed one Christian drop," she says with a grin,
"And everything you own belongs to Venice then."

He signed the bond, Antonio.
Three thousand ducats down.
Collateral was carnal.
The talk of the whole town.
The ink ain't even dry yet,
But the scales are on the shelf.
A pound of flesh, my brother.
You only got yourself.

So read the fine print.
Check the clause.
Sometimes the collateral...
It's got claws.
Three thousand ducats.
A pound of flesh.