The Lady Is a Tramp

I've wined and dined on Mulligan stew
And never wished for turkey
As I hitched and hiked and grifted 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

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
Won'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 ok-
Hate California, it's cold and it's damp
That's why the lady is a tramp

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 love 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 alone when I lower my lamp
That's why the lady is a tramp



Credits
Writer(s): Richard Rodgers, Lorenz Hart
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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