Текст песни
She climbs a tree
And scrapes her knee
Her dress has got a tear.
She waltzes on her way to mass
And whistles on the stair.
And underneath her wimple
She has curlers in her hair!
Maria's not an asset to the abbey.
She's always late for chapel,
But her penitence is real.
She's always late for everything,
Except for every meal.
I hate to have to say it
But I very firmly feel
Maria's not an asset to the abbey!
I'd like to say a word on her behalf.
Maria makes me laugh!
How do you solve a problem like Maria?
How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means Maria?
A flibberti gibbet!
A willo' the wisp!
A clown!
Many a thing you know you'd like to tell her,
Many a thing she ought to understand.
But how do you make her stay
And listen to all you say,
How do you keep a wave upon the sand?
Oh, how do you solve a problem like Maria?
How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?
When I'm with her I'm confused
Out of focus and bemused,
And I never know exactly where I am.
Unpredictable as weather,
She's as flighty as a feather,
She's a darling,
She's a demon,
She's a lamb.
She'd out-pester any pest,
Drive a hornet from his nest,
She could throw a whirling dervish
Out of whirl.
She is gentle,
She is wild,
She's a riddle.
She's a child.
She's a headache!
She's an angel!
She's a girl.
How do you solve a problem like Maria?
How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means Maria?
A flibberti gibbet!
A willo' the wisp!
A clown!
Many a thing you know you'd like to tell her,