The Saint for whom the place was named
Forsook their dirty souls;
Their mother’s sin for birthing them
Now barred them from the fold.
They sat apart and cried their tears
They knew their shameful state,
As nuns who smiled at normal kids
Just stared at them with hate.
Their soup was thin, their bodies spare
And when an illness hit,
They died in sin and two per week
Were dumped into nun’s shit.
A corpse that’s illegitimate
Does not stain Holy Ground,
No coffin like the normal ones
Who lie in hallowed mound.
Another shame for Ireland’s church
Where rot is left to grow;
The nuns will now avoid your eyes
And say they didn’t know.
No pagan man or heathen maid
Would thus condemn a child,
But common sense goes out the door
When blind faith comes inside.
Those virgin Brides of Christ were blessed
They spent their lives in prayer
And all the while their feces rots
The kids who sought their care.