作词 : Daou, Jong
 On cold days it's easy
 To button the mouth against kisses
 Dust the breasts with talcum
 Forget the red pulp
 Becoming, becoming, becoming
 Becoming a nun
 On those days the heartbeat
 Beats like a digital clock
 Chilly as green neon
 Luminous in the dark
 Becoming, becoming, becoming
 Becoming a nun
 I think I can live without it
 Love with its pumping blood
 Sex with its messy hungers
 Men with their peacock strut
 Becoming, becoming, becoming
 Becoming a nun
 I'm zipped into my body suit
 I'm wearing seven league red suede boots
 Marching over the cobblestones
 Like heads of men I've known
 Becoming, becoming, becoming
 Becoming a nun