Writer(s): Rodgers/Hart
She gets too hungry, to eat dinner at eight
She loves the theater, and never comes 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 or 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 loves the free, fresh wind in her hair
Life without care
She’s broke, and it’s o’k
She hates California, it’s cold and it’s damp
That’s why the lady is a tramp
She wont play dice games, with sharpies and frauds
And she won’t go to Harlem, in Lincolns or Fords
And She won’t dish the dirt, with the rest of those broads
That’s why the lady is a tramp
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