Writers: Rodgers/Hart



She gets too hungry, for dinner at eight

She loves the theater, but doesn't come 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 those girls

That's why the lady is a tramp



She loves the free, fresh wind in her hair

Life without care

She's broke, but it's o'k

She hates California, it's cold and it's damp

That's why the lady is a tramp



Doesn't like dice games, with sharpies and frauds

Won't go to Harlem, in Lincolns or Fords

Won't dish the dirt, with the rest of those broads

That's why the lady is a tramp