F Bb F C X2

F                         C
Maria has a music box she winds up most every day
Bb                              G
Once a week is all it takes, to make the music play
F                             Bb
Melody is just some childhood lullaby her mother
        F            C
Used to sing to her.

        F                                 C
And the road down to the city, goes right by Maria's door
  Bb                               G
I often walk right by her house on my way to the store
   F                 
Up there where those Italian mothers
            Bb           C
Dress their shivering bambinos
        F
For the rain.

[Chorus]
    Bb             C          Bb              F
She tells me about Jesus, and all his gallant men
Bb          C       F
I tell her about fantasy
Bb               C            F               D
Maria she's this lady, on the way down to the river
Bb    C          F
Maria she's a mystery
Bb    C          F    Bb F C
Maria she's a mystery.

     F                                 C
Yeah passing by this morning, I drew a picture in my head
Bb                                  G
Our bodies in some candlelight that glowed upon our skin
F                                 Bb
Maybe if I touched her, she would disappear
     C           F
Like angels in a dream.