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The Magdalene Laundries

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 laundriesMost 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 laundriesProstitutes 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

Songwriters

MITCHELL, JONIPublished by

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