The Lady Is a Tramp

I like the free, fresh wind in my hair
I get too hungry, for dinner at eight
My "Hobohemia" is the place to be
I like that sweet, fresh, rain in my face
I'm always happy when I lower my lamp
From Maine to Albuquerque
That's why the lady is a tramp
That's why the lady is a tramp
That's why the lady
Won't dish the dirt, with the rest of the girls
I go, go to Coney, the beach is divine
That's why the lady is a tramp
And Frank Sinatra, oh he's so divine
I'm not so hot, but my shape is my own
Alas, I missed the Beaux Arts Ball, and what is twice as sad

I never bother, with people I hate
Hate California, it's cold and it's damp
As I hitched and hiked and grifted too
Life without care, I'm broke, it's okay
I'm a no-good kind of a tramp
That's why the lady
Girls get massages, we cry and we moan
Diamonds and lace, no got, so what?

That's why the lady is a tramp

Tell slender Ella to leave me alone
I'm a scamp
I won't go to Harlem, in ermine and pearls
I don't like crap games, with Barons and Earls
That's why the lady is a tramp
I like the theater, but never come late

I never been to a party where they honored Noel Cad
I'm a hobo
That's why the lady is a tramp
And I eat baloney, read every Walter winter line

Social circles move too fast for me