| The twinge of remorse grew stronger each day
|
| Her guilty conscience, a mental strain
|
| Poor Alice, she needed a friend
|
| Someone to talk to, who understands
|
| …Understands
|
| Prioress Clare was always at hand
|
| The heart and soul of the convent
|
| Talking to her was such a relief
|
| She could keep a secret and ease Alice’s grief
|
| Oh, death drew near unseen
|
| Peace can be deceiving
|
| Alice felt so unburdened
|
| In the cloister garden
|
| Reciting the rosary
|
| Having devotions quietly
|
| While the church bell rang
|
| She heard the cherubs sing
|
| Not knowing that soon
|
| Her child would be one of them
|
| Joan always said: «Don't trust the Prioress»
|
| In secret Clare was a snitch
|
| And so submissive to the abbess
|
| Right on the next day
|
| She gave Alice’s secret away
|
| …Betrayal
|
| Without a spark of decency
|
| She reported Alice’s pregnancy
|
| Margaret:
|
| «Transgression against holy law
|
| You know the procedure, take care of that whore!»
|
| Oh, death drew near unseen
|
| Peace can be deceiving
|
| Alice felt so unburdened
|
| In the cloister garden
|
| Reciting the rosary
|
| Having devotions quietly
|
| While the church bell rang
|
| She heard the cherubs sing
|
| Not knowing that soon
|
| Her child would be one of them
|
| Joan always said: «Don't trust the Prioress»
|
| In the refectory
|
| One meal was prepared separately
|
| Clare was a master of her craft
|
| Margaret’s herbalist
|
| Oh Alice never noticed that strange bitterness
|
| Nor the poison of the prioress
|
| Clare:
|
| «Mother, this herbal extract
|
| With mandrake and blue flag
|
| Black hellebore and archangel
|
| Is the key
|
| To kill what’s not meant to be»
|
| Alice felt so unburdened
|
| In the cloister garden
|
| Reciting the rosary
|
| Having devotions quietly
|
| While the church bell rang
|
| She heard the cherubs sing
|
| With every meal, with every bite
|
| She was killing her child
|
| …Killing her child |