text: The old gates are always locked
  By the daughter of the keys
  Sad eyes are fixed on the world
  From the balcony
  While the six oclock procession
  Take their prayer books to the hall
  Its sad to see them shed a tear
  Inside the convent walls
  Red mountains around them
  Keep out those whod come
  But only birds and wild deer
  Share the lives of nuns
  For ladies who in kindness
  Burn the knowledge they have found
  Their knowledge lies inside a hole
  Buried in the ground
  For the Sisters of the Cross
  Seek the shadows that they have lost
  In the walls where their lives
  Are protected by God
  But the feeling of love
  Is somewhere in your bones
  Your body is wasted
  When it should have been owned
  The Mother of the mission bells
  Has lived here all her life
  She never felt the hands of a man
  Touch her in the night
  And the canopies that cover her
  So cold and so afraid
  Thinking holy mothers die
  Like spinsters in the grave
  To be single in the chapel
  Praying knelt down on your knees
  Where the corridors are echoing
  Their proud solemnity
  And the candlelight against the glass
  Plays shadow chasing tricks
  As the young girls fall, their eyes in tears
  Beside the crucifix
  For the Sisters of the Cross
  Seek the shadows that they have lost
  In the walls where their lives
  Are protected by God
  But the feeling of love
  Is somewhere in your bones
  Your body is wasted
  When it should have been owned