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