(Jake Thackray) 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 can't believe 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 nuns' 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 sumo 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 chapel during prayers Nor her lustful moaning 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 margerine Dressed only in your Y-fronts and a rosary What a funny nun you seem to be.