Corrección Letra Saga Of Jenny par Kurt Weill

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Letra

There once was a girl named Jenny
Whose virtues were varied and many
Excepting that she was inclined
Always to make up her mind
And Jenny points a moral
With which you cannot quarrel
Which you will find

Jenny made her mind up when she was three
That she herself was going to trim the Christmas tree
Christmas Eve she lit the candles, threw the tapers away
Little Jenny was an orphan on Christmas Day

Poor Jenny! Bright as a penny!
Her equal would be hard to find
She lost her dad and mothеr
A sister and a brother
But she would makе up her mind

Jenny made her mind up when she was twelve
That into foreign languages she would delve
But at seventeen to Vassar it was quite a blow
That in twenty-seven languages she couldn't say no

Poor Jenny! Bright as a penny!
Her equal would be hard to find
To Jenny I'm beholden
Her heart was big and golden
But she would make up her mind

Jenny made her mind up at twenty-two
To get herself a husband was the thing to do
So she got herself all dolled up in her satins and furs
And she got herself a husband, but he wasn't hers

Poor Jenny! Bright as a penny!
Her equal would be hard to find
Deserved a bed of roses
But history discloses
That she would make up her mind

Jenny made her mind up at thirty-nine
That she would take a trip down to the Argentine
She was only on vacation, but the Latins agree
Jenny was the one who started the Good Neighbor Policy

Jenny made her mind up at fifty-one
That she would write her memoirs before she was done
The day the book was published, history relates
There were wives who shot their husbands in some thirty-five states

Poor Jenny! Bright as a penny!
Her equal would be hard to find
Oh, passion doesn't vanish
In Portuguese or Spanish
And she would make up her mind

Poor Jenny! Bright as a penny!
Her equal would be hard to find
She could give cards and spade-ies
To many other ladies
But she would make up her mind

Poor Jenny! Bright as a penny!
Her equal would be hard to find

Jenny made her mind up at seventy-five
That she would get to be the oldest woman alive
But gin and rum and destiny play funny tricks
And poor Jenny kicked the bucket at seventy-six

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