Jean Arthur

歌詞

Any woman God's made yet Stands like a rough draft by her She could light one cigarette And smile while the world caught fire And a voice so pure and sweet Violins admit defeat And the angel of whom I speak That's God's Jean Arthur. Space rockets and cell clones Atom bombs and picturephones, but God sure threw man a curve When He made Jean Arthur. A kid's temper and a queen's will Wrapped pretty and made to kill Whoever'd outsmart her Didn't know Jean Arthur. Her talent was not the kind Learned at some school for actors Her beauty might stump the minds Of all the experts at Max Factor There's work in His home beyond God's got a corner on Only one, and now she's gone And that's God's Jean Arthur.