THE LADY IS A TRAMP   

She gets too hungry       
for 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 and 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 likes the free, fresh wind in her hair--   
Life without care.  
She's broke--it's oke!  
 
  Hates California--  
It's cold and it's damp--  
That's 'cause THE LADY IS A TRAMP!  
 

  THE LADY IS A CAT  
  
 She's always hungry, 
       Although she just ate
 And is she patient? 
        No, no! She can't wait--.
  Then turns her nose up
       At what's on her plate.
  That's cause THE LADY IS A CAT.

  Goes out when she wants--
        just as she comes in.
  Might stay out all night;  
        Who knows where she's been?
  Her game, and her rules,
        So you'll never win--
  That's cause THE LADY IS A CAT!

  She's always takin' more than her share--
  And she don't care!
  Fair play? No way! 

  She plays--and sleeps--where she wants . . .  
  And that's that! 
  Because THE LADY IS A CAT!
 

  [ etc. ] 

  Lyrics above copyright 2003 Brad Burg