Our Mother Superior

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Purification

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The dungeon's walls are hollow and cold 
The dripping darkness chills her soul
Chained up by her wrists, waiting for the fall 
Of Our Mother's heel in the hall 

The whip it cracks 
The Punishment begins 
The maid screams out 
As the Knots dig in...to her flesh 
Prioress of Christ 
In Thy Judgment Stand
All These Young Sluts Must Be Taken in Hand 

The poor girl's strength: it wanes 
As Her body fails beneath the blows 
This shall be the torment eternal 
For all the men she's carnally known 
A single candle flickers in the musk
The smell of blood is sweet and strong 
The abbess turns upon her heel 
Her work of God is here now done 

Listen closely in the misty nights 
Near the abbey's door 
You can hear the wails of torture 
'Neath the oaken floor 
O, but say nothing to the Priest 
For of this sin he knows 
Every Sabbath he's whipped and stripped 
Of all his holy cleric's clothes 
By Her Law

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