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 honoured 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 theatre, 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 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 find a Winchell, and read every line That's why the lady is a tramp I like a prize fight, 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