| Holy Willie you think you’re so great | 
| While you postulate about our fate | 
| With your bible in hand, think you’re lord of the land | 
| You’ve no scripture for me mate | 
| The hell of this wash hole is mighty | 
| So at night we might get a bit flighty | 
| But what good is boredom and silence all day | 
| I think we’ve a right to play! | 
| Oh I know we live on the edge of a knife | 
| And the risk of solitary is nigh | 
| But stuff it the gaurds can be bought with rum | 
| Even us devils need some fun | 
| So we dance at the base of the mountain | 
| Maybe nude sure we’ve all seen it before | 
| Sisters of sorrow, we say ‘stuff tomorrow' | 
| Let’s dance, drink and then dance some more | 
| So just what makes you think you’re so holy | 
| Does your wife know you’re horny as hell | 
| Compared with you, I’m a saint, so while in this pew | 
| I bare my ass and say ‘stuff you' | 
| Oh I know we live on the edge of a knife | 
| And the risk of solitary is nigh | 
| But stuff it the gaurds can be bought with rum | 
| Even us devils need some fun | 
| For that mooning I got 30 days | 
| In a cell only 6 feet by 4 | 
| But I’d do it again in the blink of an eye | 
| For what else if this hell-hole life for? | 
| Sure I’m a rebel from way back | 
| I’m a limerick girl didn’t you know? | 
| But when singing is sin I’ve no choice to give in | 
| These bastard laws just stoop too low | 
| Oh I know we live on the edge of a knife | 
| And the risk of solitary is nigh | 
| But stuff it the gaurds can be bought with rum | 
| Even us devils need some fun |