The world was her cloister, the abbess Duboir
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In the convent at All Hallows fair
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A pearl in an oyster she shone like a star
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Augmenting her sisterhoods prayers
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Her singing touched Angels and melted their hearts
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her choirs inspired the search
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For the lost holy grail, the Benedict arts
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And the best of the Catholic Church
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But if one thing
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One precious little thing
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Would darken this facade
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There would be such consequences
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Like the night Sister Victoria
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Stepped in from the freezing cold
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No candles would light at Evening Mass
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The days passed by without a sigh
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But dusk came thick with dread
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Intangible, the air was full
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Of wanderlust and approaching bloodshed
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In truth, the Abbess with her pious whims
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Enjoyed the new girl's pain
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Proof to the rest tat the briars of sin
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Entangled all the world in Satan's name
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Victoria Varco, once heiress
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To a proud noble estate
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Fell pregnant by her recklessness
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Who then fell foul to a violent fate
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Such was here cime in expedient times
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And the shame of besmirching her name
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Her child was burnt, she was dragged to these walls
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For a life in obedient chains
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But not one thing
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One precious little thing
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Would darken this facade
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Like the night Sister Victoria
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Woke screaming in her room
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She spent a week spiralling from heaven
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And as the seasons wheezed and pained
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Her dream grew more perverse
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For no good reasons she would to find
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An alluring woman naked save for jewels and verse
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When here eyelids close, on a moonlit shore
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This intoxicating beauty would appear
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The sweetest symphony composed
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Those abating lips rose
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Tho whisper dirty secrets in her ear
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Clandestine secrets
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A dream within a dream
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She finds hereself this nymph
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Abreast a desert dune
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And below the crescent moon
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Atop a darksome stranger
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Ah, the spurting of his seed inside here
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Triggers paradise
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She rides the beast until the heavens trembled
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Forcing eclipse, her lover licks her blood
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That drips upon the sand
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And almost out of hand
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Coarse plots assemble
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For somewhere in the convent walls
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A templar treasure rests
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Forgotten to the vestibules
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Like pleasures of the flesh
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So, in return for nightly runs
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Past tongues and wisdom's hiss
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She promised to assist the hunt
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for an ancient golden chain amiss
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The Nun With The Astrail Habit
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Cradle Of Filth |