The Magdalene Laundries - Joni Mitchell

    I was an unmarried girl
    I'd just turned twenty-seven
    When they sent me to the sisters
    For the way men looked at me
    Branded as a jezebel
    I knew I was not bound for Heaven
    I'd be cast in shame
    Into the Magdalene laundries

    Most girls come here pregnant
    Some by their own fathers
    Bridget got that belly
    By her parish priest
    We're trying to get things white as snow
    All of us woe-begotten-daughters
    In the streaming stains
    Of the Magdalene laundries

    Prostitutes and destitutes
    And temptresses like me--
    Fallen women--
    Sentenced into dreamless drudgery ...
    Why do they call this heartless place
    Our Lady of Charity?
    Oh charity!

    These bloodless brides of Jesus
    If they had just once glimpsed their groom
    Then they'd know, and they'd drop the stones
    Concealed behind their rosaries
    They wilt the grass they walk upon
    They leech the light out of a room
    They'd like to drive us down the drain
    At the Magdalene laundries

    Peg O'Connell died today
    She was a cheeky girl
    A flirt
    They just stuffed her in a hole!
    Surely to God you'd think at least some bells should ring!
    One day I'm going to die here too
    And they'll plant me in the dirt
    Like some lame bulb
    That never blooms come any spring
    Not any spring
    No, not any spring
    Not any spring

    Marco Giunco
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