The Lady Is a Tramp

(Verse)
I've wined and dined on mulligan stew
And never wished for turkey
As I hitched and hiked and drifted, too
From Maine to Albuquerque
Alas, I missed the Beaux Arts Ball
And what is twice as sad
I was never at a party where they honored Noel Ca'ad
But social circles spin too fast for me
My hobohemia is the place to be

(Chorus)
I get too hungry for dinner at eight
I like the theater, but never come late
I never bother with people I hate
That's why the lady is a tramp

I don't like crap games with barons and earls
Won't go to Harlem in ermine and pearls
Don't dish the dirt with the rest of the girls
That's why the lady is a tramp

I like the free, fresh wind in my hair
Life without care
I'm broke
It's oke
Hate California, it's cold and it's damp
That's why the lady is a tramp

(Chorus 2)
I go to Coney, the beach is divine
I go to ballgames, the bleachers are fine
I follow Winchell and read every line
That's why the lady is a tramp

I like a prizefight that isn't a fake
I like the rowing on Central Park Lake
I go to opera and stay wide awake
That's why the lady is a tramp

I like the green grass under my shoes
What can I lose?
I'm flat
That's that
I'm all alone when I lower my lamp
That's why the lady is a tramp

(Chorus 3)
Don't know the reason for cocktails at five
I don't like flying. I'm glad I'm alive
I crave affection, but not when I drive
That's why the lady is a tramp

Folks go to London and leave me behind
I'll miss the crowning, Queen Mary won't mind
I don't play Scarlett in Gone With the Wind
That's why the lady is a tramp

I like to hang my hat where I please
Sail with the breeze
No dough?
Hi-ho!
I love LaGuardia and think he's a champ
That's why the lady is a tramp

(Chorus 4)
Girls get massages, they cry and they moan
Tell Lizzie Arden to leave me alone
I'm not so hot, but my shape is my own
That's why the lady is a tramp

The food at Sardi's is perfect, no doubt
I wouldn't know what the Ritz is about
I drop a nickel and coffee comes out
That's why the lady is a tramp

I like the sweet, fresh rain in my face
Diamonds and lace
No got
So what?
For Robert Taylor I whistle and stamp
That's why the lady is a tramp