text: I was an unmarried girl
  Id just turned twenty-seven
  When they sent me to the sisters
  For the way men looked at me
  Branded as a jezebel
  I knew I was not bound for Heaven
  Id be cast in shame
  Into the Magdalene Laundries
  Most girls come here pregnant
  Some by their own fathers
  Bridget got that belly by her parish priest
  Were trying to get things white as snow
  All of us woe-begotten daughters
  In the streaming stains
  Of the Magdalene Laundries
  Prostitutes and destitutes
  And temptresses like me
  Fallen women
  Sentenced into dreamless drudgery
  Why do they call this heartless place
  Our Lady of Charity?
  Oh charity!
  These bloodless brides of Jesus
  If they had just once glimpsed their groom
  Then theyd know, and theyd drop the stones
  Concealed behind their rosaries
  They wilt the grass they walk upon
  They leech the light out of a room
  Theyd like to drive us down the drain
  At the Magdalene Laundries
  Peg OConnell died today
  She was a cheeky girl
  A flirt
  They just stuffed her in a hole!
  Surely to God youd think at least some bells should ring!
  One day Im going to die here too
  And theyll plant me in the dirt
  Like some lame bulb
  That never blooms come any spring
  Not any spring
  No, not any spring
  Not any spring