He sought cover on that rainy Sunday night Where no-man had sat his foot for a long, long time A lonesome chapel on a desolate moor Shortly after he slept by the fire-place Awoke as god has made him there on the floor By a female falsetto at the break of dawn A half-choked "haven't you seen a man before!!?" When he saw the blushing nuns of the sisterhood... nunsense! He was in fact a carpenter's son But not that particular one They surely could use the strong hands of a handyman To repair the leaking roof against food and a warm bed... (he had plenty to choose from) That once so poor choir improved miraculously As if someone had popped the cork and let the spirit free They didn't know how empty they were, until they were filled Underneath every veil there was a women concealed A faint scent of au de cologne in the air Damnation! That man has turned this place into a Vanity Fair 666 !!!! Sister Mary was caught in a Linda Blair-ish activity with a crucifix - crush it!!! Waiting for his resurrection... ...PS. Those belts of chastit? was destroyed cause Their faith had swallowed the key if one man shall Lay their puzzle, he's in possession of the missing (piece) what the good book says is not too good According to this sisterhood