That’s why, that’s why the lady
|
That’s why that’s why the lady
|
That’s why, that’s why the lady is a tramp
|
Tramp
|
Hm, ooh
|
She gets too hungry for, dinner at eight, now
|
Hates the theatre but, never comes late
|
She never bothers, with the people she hates
|
That’s why, that’s why the lady is tramp
|
Don’t go to crap games, with the barons and earls
|
Won’t go to Harlem, in ermines and pearls
|
She won’t dish the dirt with the rest of the girls
|
That’s why, that’s why the lady is a tramp
|
She loves the free, fresh, wind, in her hair
|
Life without care
|
She’s broke, and that’s ok
|
Hates California, it’s so smuggy and damp
|
That’s why the lady is a tramp, now
|
She gets massages, she cries and she moans
|
Tells Slenderella just to leave her alone
|
She’s not so hot, but her shape is her own
|
That’s why, that’s why the lady is a tramp
|
The food at Sardees is great no doubt
|
But she doesn’t know what, motels all about
|
She puts in a dime, and some ice comes out
|
That’s why the lady is a tramp
|
She loves the free fresh wind in her face
|
Diamonds and lace
|
No God, so what
|
For Rod Steiger she whistles and stamps
|
That’s why the lady is a tramp, now
|
She don’t know the reason for, cocktails at five
|
She don’t like flyin' baby, but I’m glad I’m alive
|
I crave affection baby but not when I drive
|
That’s why the lady is a tramp, now
|
She flew down to London and left me behind
|
I missed the crowning but, I didn’t mind
|
She won’t play Scarlet and Gone with the Wind
|
(It's got to rhyme)
|
That’s why the lady is a tramp, now
|
I like to hang her hat, wherever I please
|
And fly, with a breeze
|
And no dough, hi ho
|
She thinks that Marciano was still a great big champ
|
That’s why the lady is a tramp, now
|
She goes down to Coney and she thinks the beach is divine
|
She goes to the ball games and thinks the Yankees are fine
|
Why she reads Walter Winchell and understands every line
|
That’s why the lady is a tramp, now
|
She likes do to go rowing down Central Park Lake
|
She digs a price fight, that isn’t fake
|
Why she even goes to the opera, and stays wide awake
|
That’s why the lady is a tramp, now
|
I like the green grass, under my shoes
|
Now what can I lose
|
She’s flat, and that’s that
|
She’s all alone when I lower my lamp
|
That’s why the lady, that’s why the lady
|
That’s why the lady is a tramp |