The old gates are always locked
By the daughter of the keys
Sad eyes are fixed on the world
From the balcony
While the six o'clock procession
Take their prayer books to the hall
It's sad to see them shed a tear
Inside the convent walls
Red mountains around them
Keep out those who come
But only birds and wild deer
Share the lives of nuns
For ladies who in kindness
Burn the knowledge they have found
Their knowledge lies inside a hole
Buried in the ground
For the Sisters of the Cross
Seek the shadows they have lost
In the walls where their lives
Are protected by God
But the feeling of love
Is somewhere in your bones
Your body is wasted
When it should have been owned
The Mother of the mission bells
Has lived here all her life
She never felt the hands of man
Touch her in the night
And the canopies that cover her
So cold and so afraid
Thinking holy mothers die
Like spinsters in the grave
To be single in the chapel
Praying knelt down on your knees
Where the corridors are echoing their proud solemnity
And the candle-light against the glass
Plays shadow-chasing tricks
As young girls fall, their eyes in tears
Beside the crucifix