.
.
Comes from the midnight
Scream
In the alley
The yellow street light lamp
Shining daggers
The country nun was
Silently moving
In the shadows
:::
Sweet oh sweet
Is my lady
••
Police car sirens
The mood is deadly
We bring to safety
All we can carry
All immigrants
To the country
Of saintliness
•
Sweet touch
Yes
It is she
Holy mother
She loves all
Anyone may love her
In the scresms from the hungry alley
You can always find her there