In a market quaint, on a brisk spring day,
A man found a treasure, tucked away.
A razor ornate, with a sinister sheen,
Unaware of the horror it had once seen.

Sweeney Todd, Sweeney Todd, the spirit so vile,
Grips the manu0027s soul, drives him to defile.
Through shadowed streets, the terror unfolds,
As darkness and death their grip holds.

The razor whispers secrets, long concealed,
Steals his sanity, a fate now sealed.
Hands once gentle now wielding a blade,
An insatiable hunger, a gruesome trade.

Sweeney Todd, Sweeney Todd, the spirit so vile,
Grips the manu0027s soul, drives him to defile.
Through shadowed streets, the terror unfolds,
As darkness and death their grip holds.

Faces familiar turn to feasts of dread,
No need for baking, just blood to shed.
Memories fade in the nightu0027s cruel grip,
A demon revived from historyu0027s crypt.

Once joyous lanes now steeped in gloom,
The evil roams, bringing certain doom.
The ancient blade finds a new hand,
History repeats in this cursed land.

Sweeney Todd, Sweeney Todd, the spirit so vile,
Grips the manu0027s soul, drives him to defile.
Through shadowed streets, the terror unfolds,
As darkness and death their grip holds.

The razor rests, blood-stained and dire,
Awaiting the next to ignite its fire.
A simple purchase, a fate entwined,
In a quaint market, a soul confined.