Chords for The Contest

I am Adolfo Pirelli, the [D] king of the [Db] barbers, the barber of kings.
[G] And buongiorno, good day.
[Gb] I blow you a kiss.
[Ebm] _ And I, the so [F] famous Pirelli, I wish to know who has [Bb] the nerve to say _ [D] my elixir is piss.
[Bb] Who says piss?
I do.
_ _ _ I'm Mr.
Sweeney Todd of Fleet Street.
I [N] have opened a bottle of Pirelli's elixir, and I say to you that it is nothing but an errant fraud concocted from piss and ink.
_ Furthermore, signor, I've serviced no kings.
Yet I wager that I can shave a cheek with ten times more dexterity than any street mountabank.
You hear this foolish man?
Now please, you will see how you will regret the years of folly.
Who's for a free shave?
_ _ The Weedle Bamford be the judge.
Glad as always to oblige my friends and neighbors.
_ _ _ _ The fastest, smoothest shave is the winner! _ _ _
[Eb] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ Now signorini, signori, we mix at the lather, but first you gather [C] around, signorini, signori.
You look in a man who [Gb] have heard of the glory to [G] serve at the pub, Mr.
Sweeney.
Whoever I beg your pardon, you'll probably say it was only [Ab] a cardinal whoop.
It was [Gm] at the pub! _ _
_ [C] To shave the face, [G] to cut the [B] hair, require the [C] grace, [G] require the flair.
[C] For if you [A] slip, you nick the skin, you clip the chin, [D] you rip the lip a [G] bit beyond the repair.
To [D] shave the [Dm] face, or even a [Bb] part [Dm] without it a sword, require the heart, not just [G] the flesh.
It take a panache, it take the passion for the art. _
_ To shave [Ab] the face, [G] to trim the beard, [Cm] to make [Ab] the bristle [Cm] bleed like a [Ab] whistle.
This [D] is from early [G] infancy, the talent give [Gm] to me _
[G] by God.
_ _ _ _ [Em] _ _
[Gm] It take the skill, it take the brains, [Em] it take the will, to [Fm] take the pain. _ _
[G] It take the pace, it take the [Gm] grace. _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [Eb] The winner is Todd!
[C] _ _ _ _ [N] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _