Lyrics:

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 (Coward)

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 her hair

Life without care

I'm broke, it's o'k

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