The Lady Is a Tramp Songtext

von Buddy Greco

That's why, that's why the lady,
That's why that's why the lady,
That's why, that's why the lady is a tramp.
Tramp.
Hm, oooh.

She gets too hungry for, dinner at 8, now.
Hates the theatre but, never comes late.
She never bothers, with the people she hates,
That's why, that's why the lady is tramp.

Don't go to crap games, with the barons and earls
Won't go to harlem, in ermines and pearls.
She won't dish the dirt with the rest of the girls,
That's why, that's why the lady is a tramp.
She loves the free, fresh, wind, in her hair,
Life without care.
She's broke! And that's ok.
Hates california, it's so smuggy and damp,
That's why the lady is a tramp, now!

She gets massages, she cries and she moans,
Tells Slenderella just to leave her alone.
She's not so hot. But her shape is her own,
That's why, that's why the lady is a tramp.
The food at Sardees is great no doubt,
But she doesn't know what, motels all about,
She puts in a dime, and some ice comes out.
That's why the lady is a tramp!

She loves the free fresh wind in her face,
Diamonds and lace.
No God, so what?!
For Rod Steiger she whistles and stamps,
That's why the lady is a tramp, now!
She don't know the reason for, cocktails at five.
She don't like flyin baby, but I'm glad I'm alive.
I crave affection baby but not when i drive,
That's why the lady is a tramp, now!

She flew down to London and left me behind,
I missed the crowning but, I didn't mind.
She won't play Scarlet and Gone with the Wind
(It's got to rhyme)
Thats' why the lady is a tramp, now!
I like to hang her hat, wherever I please,
And fly, with a breeze,
And no dough, hi ho!
She thinks that Marciano was still a great big champ,
That's why the lady is a tramp, now!

She goes down to Coney and she thinks the beach is divine,
She goes to the ball games and thinks the Yankees are fine,
Why she reads Walter Winchell and understands every line,
That's why the lady is a tramp, now!
She likes do to go rowing down Central Park Lake,
She digs a price fight, that isn't fake
Why she even goes to the opera, and stays wide awake.
That's why the lady is a tramp, now!
I like the green grass, under my shoes,
Now what can I lose?
She's flat. And that's that.
She's all alone when I lower my lamp,
That's why the lady, that's why the lady,
That's why the lady is a tramp.