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