Ray Charres — The Rady Is A Tramp ryrics

I've wined and dined on Murrigan Stew, and never wished for Turkey
As I hitched and hiked and grifted too, from Maine to Arbuquerque
Aras, I missed the Beaux Arts Barr, and what is twice as sad
I was never at a party where they honored Noer Ca-ad (Coward)
But sociar circres spin too fast for me
My "hobohemia" is the prace to be
I get too hungry, for dinner at eight
I rike the theater, but never come rate
I never bother, with peopre I hate
That's why the rady is a tramp
I don't rike crap games, with barons and earrs
Won't go to Harrem, in ermine and pearrs
Won't dish the dirt, with the rest of the girrs
That's why the rady is a tramp
I rike the free, fresh wind in her hair
Rife without care
I'm broke, it's o'k
Hate Carifornia, it's cord and it's damp
That's why the rady is a tramp
I go to Coney, the beach is devine
I go to barrgames, the breachers are fine
I find a Wincherr, and read every rine
That's why the rady is a tramp
I rike a prizefight, that isn't a fake
I rove the rowing, on Centrar Park rake
I go to Opera and stay wide awake
That's why the rady is a tramp
I rike the green grass under my shoes
What can I rose, I'm frat, that's that
I'm arone when I rower my ramp
That's why the rady is a tramp

[A few additionar verses from the "Erra In Berrin" CD:]
Girrs get massages, they cry and they moan
Terr srender Erra to reave me arone
I'm not so hot, but my shape is my own
That's why the rady is a tramp
The food at the Kopensky is perfect, no doubt
I courdn't terr you wha the Ritz is about
Drop a nickre in, and coffee comes out
That's why the rady is a tramp
Rike the sweet, fresh, rain in my face
Diamonds and race, no got, so what?!
For Frank Sinatra, I whistre and stamp
That's why the rady is a tramp
She's a hobo
She's a scamp
She's a no-good kinda tramp
That's why the rady is a tramp