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Seven Old Abbesses
CHORUS:
Oh dear what can the matter be?
Seven old abbesses locked in the lavatory.

They were there from Sunday 'til Saturday;
Nobody knew they were there.
Fa la la (fa la la), fa la la (fa la la)
Fa la-la-la-la-la-la-la!

MOLLY:
The old abbess was Mary from Dover,
And though she was known as a bit of a rover
She liked it so much, she thought she'd stay over,
And nobody knew she was there.

BRIGID:
The next was one of our own, Sister Myrtle.
She jumped over the top like a steeplechase hurdle,
But her rosary got caught in the stay of her girdle,
And nobody knew she was there.

CHORUS

MOLLY:
The next was dear Sister Abigail Humphry
Who settled inside to make herself comfy,
But then she found out she could not get her bum free,
And nobody knew she was there.

BRIGID:
The next old abess was Margaret so tender.
She was doing all right 'til a wayward suspender
Got all tangled up in her feminine gender
And nobody knew she was there.

CHORUS

MOLLY:
The next was our very own Reverend Mother
Who went in to pass some superfluous water.
She pulled on the chain and the rising tide caught her,
And nobody knew she was there.

BRIGID:
The next was our own Sister Molly, God save her.
She went in, but there wasn't any paper.
The only thing there was a bricklayer's scraper,
And nobody knew she was there.

MOLLY:
The last old abbess was dear Sister Megan.
She went in and "went" in the basin,
But that was the water that Brigid washed her face in,
And nobody knew she was there.

CHORUS