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I've wined and dined on Mulligan StewAnd never wished for TurkeyAs I hitched and hiked and grifted tooFrom Maine to AlbuquerqueAlas, I missed the 'Beaux Arts Ball'And what is twice as sadI was never at a party whereThey honored Noel CowardBut social circles spin too fast for meMy hobohemia is the place to beI get too hungry, for dinner at eightI like the theater, but never come lateI never bother, with people I hateThat's why the lady is a trampI don't like crap games, with barons and earlsWon't go to Harlem, in ermine and pearlsWon't dish the dirt, with the rest of the girlsThat's why the lady is a trampI like the free, fresh wind in her hairLife without care, I'm broke, it's okayHate California, it's cold and it's dampSongtexteThat's why the lady is a trampI go to Coney, the beach is divineI go to ballgames, the bleachers are fineI follow Winchell, and read every lineThat's why the lady is a trampI like a prizefight, that isn't a fakeI love the rowing, on Central Park lakeI go to Opera and stay wide awakeThat's why the lady is a trampI like the green grass under my shoesWhat can I lose, I'm flat, that's thatI'm alone when I lower my lampThat's why the lady is a tramp Aus Songtexte Mania