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The Lady Is a Tramp (From Babes in Arms)

I've wined and dined on Mulligan Stew

And never wished for turkey

As I hitched and hiked and grifted too

From Maine to AlbuquerqueAlas, I missed the Beaux Arts Ball

And what is twice as sad

I was never at a party

Where they honored Noel Ca'adBut social circles spin too fast for me

My 'Hobohemia' is the place to beI 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 trampI 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 trampI like the free, fresh wind in my 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 trampI 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 trampI 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 trampI like the green grass under my shoes

What can I lose? I'm flat, that's that

I'm 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

Songwriters

HART, LORENZ/RODGERS, RICHARDPublished by

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., IMAGEM U.S. LLC

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