I've wined and dined on Mulligan Stew, and never wished for TurkeyAs I hitched and hiked and grifted too, from Maine to AlbuquerqueAlas, I missed the Beaux Arts Ball, and what is twice as sadI was never at a party where they honored Noel Ca-ad (Coward)But social circles spin too fast for meMy "hobohemia" is the place to beI get too hungry, for dinner at eightI like the theater, but never come lateI never bother, with people I hateThat's why the lady is a trampI don't like crap games, with barons and earlsWon't go to Harlem, in ermine and pearlsWon't dish the dirt, with the rest of the girlsThat's why the lady is a trampI like the free, fresh wind in her hairLife without careI'm broke, it's o'kHate California, it's cold and it's dampThat's why the lady is a trampI go to Coney, the beach is devineI go to ballgames, the bleachers are fineI find a Winchell, and read every lineThat's why the lady is a trampI like a prizefight, that isn't a fakeI love the rowing, on Central Park lakeI go to Opera and stay wide awakeThat's why the lady is a trampI like the green grass under my shoesWhat can I lose, I'm flat, that's thatI'm alone when I lower my lampThat's why the lady is a tramp
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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 devine
I go to ballgames, the bleachers are fine
I find a 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
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