[BERTHE]
She climbs a tree
And scrapes her knee
Her dress has got a tear

[SOPHIA]
She waltzes on her way to mass
And whistles on the stair

[BERTHE]
And underneath her wimple
She has curlers in her hair

[SOPHIA]
I've even heard her singing in the abbey

[BERTHE]
She's always late for chapel

[SOPHIA]
But her penitence is real

[BERTHE]
She's always late for everything
Except for every meal
I hate to havе to say it
But I very firmly feel
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