The Holy Sisters of Perpetual Punishment
This was the fate of a friend of mine. Spare me, Lord, from your holy servants.
Bitter winter, wind-whipped snow
Chilblains burning, six below
Dragged along by unloving hand
Is this what your great God planned?
Holey shoes, Holy nun
New, lonely life begun
Slap to ear, hurry along, boy
I’m an orphan now, gone all joy
From now on you belong to us
No time to dawdle, no time for fuss
Onto the bus, brief relief,
Tearful eyes, heart of grief
Father did not return from war
Mother ran off with a yank, the whore
Left behind, unwanted trash
Just a drain on charities’ cash
1947 I’m five years old, always cold
Fed on gruel, poor winter fuel
Food’s on ration Holy Sister’s of the Passion
My guardians now, stern faces, frowning brow
Just can’t win, everything I do’s a sin
Requiring instant punishment
They won’t relent
Until I’ve learned to fear their god
I hate your god, he’s a cruel sod
The sisters they see nothing odd
In wrapping a child head to feet
In his stinking piss-soaked sheet
We’ll teach you not to wet the bed
Shame on you, clout to head
Had to stand til the sheet was dry
Another whack if I dared to cry
Twelve years of punishment and penance
Always threats, always menace
Now free at last, the past long gone
But the lifetime memories they live on