The Sound of Music

The hills are alive

With the sound of music

With songs they have sung

For a thousand years

The hills fill my heart

With the sound of music

My heart wants to sing

Every song it hears

My heart wants to beat like the wings

Of the birds that rise

From the lake to the trees

My heart wants to sigh

Like a chime that flies

From a church on a breeze

To laugh like a brook

When it trips and falls

Over stones on its way

To sing through the night

Like a lark who is learning to pray

I go to the hills

When my heart is lonely

I know I will hear

What I've heard before

My heart will be blessed

With the sound of music

And I'll sing...

...once more

Hallelujah, hallelujah

Hallelujah, hallelujah

- Reverend Mother.

- Sister Bernice.

- I simply cannot find her.

- Maria?

She's missing again.

We should've put a cowbell

around her neck.

Have you tried the barn? You know

how much she adores the animals.

I have looked everywhere.

In all of the usual places.

Sister, considering it's Maria...

...I suggest you look in someplace

unusual.

Well, Reverend Mother...

...I hope this new infraction ends

whatever doubts...

...you may still have

about Maria's future here.

I always try to keep faith

in my doubts, Sister Berthe.

After all, the wool of a black sheep

is just as warm.

We are not talking about sheep,

black or white, Sister Margaretta.

Of all the candidates for

the novitiate, Maria is the least...

Children, children.

We were speculating about

the qualifications of our postulants.

The Mistress of Novices

and the Mistress of Postulants...

...were trying to help me

by expressing opposite points of view.

Tell me, Sister Catherine,

what do you think of Maria?

She's a wonderful girl,

some of the time.

- Sister Agatha?

- It's very easy to like Maria...

...except when it's difficult.

- And you, Sister Sophia?

- Oh, I love her very dearly.

But she always seems to be

in trouble, doesn't she?

Exactly what I say.

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

I've even heard her singing

In 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 in her behalf

Say it, Sister Margaretta.

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 flibbertigibbet

- A will-o'-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?

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'll out pester any pest

Drive a hornet from its nest

She can 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 flibbertigibbet

- A will-o'-the-wisp

A clown

Many a thing you know

You'd like to tell her

Many a thing she ought to understand

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