[MRS. PEACHUM]
There goes a man. The gallows loom above him
They'll get the quicklime mixed in which to shove him
They'll put his neck just under where the noose is
And what's he thinking of, the idiot? Floozies
They've all but hanged him, yet he can't ignore that call
Sexual obsession has him in its thrall

She sold him the down the river, stripped him heart and soul
He's seen the dirty money in her hand
And bit by bit begins to understand
The pit that covеrs him is woman's hole
Then he may rant and ravе and curse his ruin
As soon as night falls he'll be up and doing