Sister Josephine

Oh, Sister Josephine
What do all these policemen mean
By coming to the convent in their grim limousines
After Sister Josephine?

While you, Sister Josephine
You sit with your boots up on the altar screen
You smoke one last cigar
What a funny nun you are

The policemen say that Josephine's a burglar in disguise
Big fat Norman, fifteen years on the run
The sisters disbelieve it, no, that can't be Josephine
Just think of all her tenderness towards the younger nuns

Oh, Sister Josephine
They're searching the chapel where you've been seen
The nooks and the crannies of the nun's canteen
After Sister Josephine

While you, Sister Josephine
Take a farewell swig of Benedictine
Before your au revoir
A right funny nun you are

Admittedly her hands are big and hairy
And emblazoned with a curious tattoo
Admittedly her voice is on the deep side
She seems to shave more often than the other sisters do

Oh, Sister Josephine
Founder of the convent pontoon team
They're leafing through your volumes of those strange magazines
After Sister Josephine

While you, Sister Josephine
Give a farewell whiff of Benzedrine
To the convent budgerigar
A bloody funny nun you are

No more will her snores echo through the chapel during prayers
Nor her lustful moanings stir the stilly nights
No more empty bottles of altar wine come clanking from her cell
No longer will the cloister toilet seat stand upright

Oh, Sister Josephine
Slipping through their fingers like margarine
Dressed only in your Y-fronts and a rosary
What a funny nun you seem to be