They might have burnednBut the priests were out taking turnsnShowing nuns what they had discerned about their bodies,nIn the darknThey carried on,nfrom the evening until the dawnnLike they should have been all alongnMaking harmless sparksnInstead of breaking little boys heartsnnGod knows, if you noticed the millions of small holesnAnd ponder the weight of an applenCompared to the trouble we're innThen some grown men might,nbe tempted to question their birthrightnIn front of their kids and devout wivesnCausing the doubt to begin, tonSpread like original sin