Lady is a Tramp

She gets too hungry, for dinner at eight
She adores the theater, and won’t arrive late
She’d never bother, with people she’d hate
That’s why the lady is a tramp

Doesn’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

She likes the free, fresh wind in her hair
Life without care
She’s broke; it’s oke
She hates California, it’s cold and it’s damp
That’s why the lady is a tramp, oh

Oh…
I get far too hungry to eat dinner at eight
I adore the theater but I never come late
I’d ooh…

You’d never bother with anyone that you’d hate
That’s why the lady is a tramp
I like the free, fresh wind in my hair, life without care
She’s a springer, a humdinger
Hate California, too cold
And too damp
That’s why the lady…
That’s why the lady…
That’s why the lady…
That’s why the lady…
That’s why the lady..
Oh…
That is why the lady is a tramp
That is why the lady is a tramp
Tramp, oh…

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