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.