In parallel, The Vigilante Cannibal Nun wrote songs.

Good luck Maggie Murtagh in all that you do

This life pushes you into strange circumstances a new

And we walk around thinking we know ourselves as good,

and judge others and say

look at the things I would never do

If you want my love it’s not on the table

Even though I know you are fit and able

If I let you in me you I’ll destroy

It’s back to vengeance my pretty pretty little boy

She laughs as her senses are aroused

As they dirty the sheets of the dead Lord

Because all they can get and take

is this transcendent fuck

A day, an hour, a minute, a lifetime,

take what they can

take what they can

take what they can

and leave and say

I’m Stalking the hills, Daddy, I am the Cannibal nun

And in my holster, my blood-stained hand on a Red Coat’s gun

Devouring, Stealing, and giving to the more than meek

Contempt and love confusing what I seek

You’re a killer baby

That is who you are

We don’t care for story

No prizes for your scars

You got the black skinny jeans

Horny and serene

I got the neurotic means

I’m gonna eat you up

You ain’t getting nothing for free

Everything has a cost when you’re with me

Make love make love but if you take responsibility

You’ll find yourself dating a totalitarian regime

I came down the stairs and the war was over

Mother was dead, the house was deserted

No need to look over my shoulder

So much time passed and I’m so much older

Mercenary

Take Pity on Me

Play Pretty

Play Pretty

Because I’m Fat ‘n Fuct

I’m all outta luct

Been trying for months

To be the person I’m not

SWEET LITTLE Roisin

Never a girl of 17

A wonderkid neglected and unseen

Felt tip painting on the underside of a dream

Now she’s a propagandist machine

Born Strangled

Bed rangled

Chickens coming home to roost

Memory murky

I’m going cold turkey

To try to unshackle the

You could have been the one

you couldn’t do the choosin

You waited for love

And love led you to losin

More wine

More Frills

Lets dine

Lets kill

More sex

More theft

More thrills

What’s left?

Maggie Laments Red Legs and wishes she could RAP, hi.

The Vigilante Cannibal Nun’s Country classic - Dress of Bad Decisions.

The Germinations of The Body & Blood.

An astonishingly original piece of work performed with verve and humour by the creator. A rollercoaster ride through the story of a vigilante cannibal nun who embodies the suppressed rage and trauma of a people - leavened with sly humour and music. This work could only have come out of Belfast - and the mind of Carol Murphy. Not to be missed.

The stainless-steel scissor ice cream scoop and the rusty Stanley knife, from collar bone to gut, opening ourselves up, puncturing our lungs, then squeezing the handle, desperately trying to get the metal belt into heat, to see the piecemeal pink lung lump, (think of them as non-smokers) drop onto the floor so that they could say, “Have it. I’m done with it. I don’t want it anymore. But at least it looks good. A perfect ice cream sphere.”

Our Lord is a psychopathic surgeon in the sky

He holds all the cards and we don’t ask why

Perfection is his chain-link fence, and no one is getting by

In his LA world of gold and souls and sex on the side

Watch this space for news of up and coming live performances of The Body & Blood in The Shaft (otherwise known as Belfast), Hi!