The convent was asleep,
I was returning late,
And the pissed builder from Latvia
Was smuggled through the gates.
My hemline has been raised,
And nun's vows cast aside,
I'm the Lithuanians' bicycle - and they've all had a ride.
I tore off my habit,
Chaste old habits died,
When Eastern Europe’s young, single men arrived.
They might condemn Dublin
But it's Temple Bar for me,
They may call it sinful
But the Pole's pole was lovely,
They may get me praying,
Taking vows of chastity,
But they can't restrain me.
They might say, "Nuns don't dance"
But I'm whirling dervishly,
They may ban me drinking
But there's Guinness in my tea,
They may forbid short skirts
And lovers from the Baltic Sea,
But they can't restrain me.
They might steal my bodhrán
But I'll still “bang” endlessly,
They may seal the convent
But they'll never seal my knees,
They may make me mutter
Hail Maries with my rosary,
But they can't restrain me,
No, not Sister Cathy!
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