Christy Moore – The Magdalene Laundries (Guitar)

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Joanie was an unmarried girl     just turned twenty-seven

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When they sent her to the sisters because of the way men looked at her

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Branded as a jezebel she knew she was not bound for heaven

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She had been cast in shame into the Magdalene laundries

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  Bridget got her belly from the Parish Priest

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They're trying to get things as white as snow, all of those woe-begotten daughters

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In the steaming stains of the Magdalene laundries

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Prostitutes and destitutes    and temptresses like Joanie

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Fallen women sentenced  into dreamless drudgery

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Why do the call this place    Our Lady Of Charity?

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Of Charity?

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These bloodless brides of Jesus if they could just once glimpse their groom

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They'd drop the stones concealed behind their rosaries

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They wilt the grass they walk upon they leech the light out of a room

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They'd like to wash those girls down the drains of The Magdalene Launderies

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Peg O'Connell died today. She was a cheeky girl, they stuffed her in a hole

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Surely to God you'd think at least some bells should ring

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Joanie thinks she'll die there too and that they'll tramp her in the dirt

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Like some lame bulb that never will bloom when the springtime comes

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When the springtime comes

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When the springtime comes

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When the springtime comes