Oh, Sister Josephine, what do all these policemen mean
By coming to the convent in a grim limousine, after Sister Josephine?
While you, Sister Josephine, you sit with your boots upon 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 bad Norman, fifteen years on the run
The Sisters disbelieve it no that can t be Josephine
Just think about 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 nuns canteen after Sister Josephine.
While you Sister Josephine, you sip one farewell Benedictine
Before your au revoir - a right funny nun you are!
Admittedly her hands are big and hairy and embellished with a curious tattoo
Admittedly her voice is on the deep side
And she seems to shave more often than the other Sisters do.
Oh, Sister Josephine, founder of the convent pontoon team
They re looking through your bundles of rare magazines
After Sister Josephine.
While you, Sister Josephine, you give a goodbye sniff of benzedrine
To the convent budgerigar - a bloody funny nun you are!
No longer will her snores ring through the chapel during prayers
Nor her lustful moaning fill the stille night
No more empty bottles of altar wine come clunking from her cell
No longer will the cloister toilet seat stand up - right.
Oh, Sister Josephine, slipping through their fingers like Vaseline
Leaving them to clutch your empty crinoline, after Sister Josephine.
While you Sister Josephine, sprinting through the suburbs when last seen
Dressed only in your wimple and your rosary
A right funny nun you seem to be.