When you find yourself in times of troubled desperate need
Kneeled demure and down by your bed for a week
And the answers don't come
And no one ever comes
Mother always warned you of the possibilities
Of spirits in the mirror, ghosts unholy and bloody
So say your Hail Marys
'Cause trouble comes in threes
Our lady...
Our lady's plagued by a ring round her rosy
Our lady's plagued by a pocketful of posey
That she can't keep to herself, 'cause the guilt's a disease
Contrary to popular fanatic belief
If you wanna sign her contract, you're gonna have to bleed
Take it from me, satisfaction guaranteed!
Well worth your money!
Invocation:
A circle of salt and the foot of a hare
And bits of the mirror where I'm told she stared
A few drops of blood, two of yours, two of mine
Some nightshade, some mugwort, some whiskey, some wine
Put in a blender, puree for five days
A formaldehyde garnish to hide the decay
Ave Maria!
Virgo Serena!
Grazia Plena!
Here she comes!
Can you hear the silver bells and silence of the lambs?
Can you smell dead roses from the holes in her hands?
How her garden did grow, now she's beginning to show
Rashes to ashes and lust to dust
She's come to take the sinners, all the sinners like us
To the eternal charade, the infernal parade!
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