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 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 okay
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

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Downtown Music Publishing, Royalty Network, Universal Music Publishing Group, Walt Disney Music Company, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Lorenz Hart, Richard Rodgers