Lhe lady is a tramp

She gets too hungry for dinner at eight,
Like the theatre but never come late.
Never bother with people she hates,
That’s why the lady lady is a tramp.

Don’t like corapgames with Barons ad Earls,
She 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
Hat California,
It’s cold and it’s damp,
That’s why the lady is tramp (go man)

(Yeah)
(Yeh yeah)
(Go man)
(Go go)
(Yeah)
(Go)
(Yeh yeh)
(Go)
(Yeah)

She likes the free fresh
Wind in her hair.
Life without care.
She’s broke, it’s oke

Hat California,
It’s cold and it’s damp,
That’s why the lady is a tramp…
(Alla chitarra questa sera abbiamo ascoltato… Dario Lapenna… lui!…)
(Al basso Jean Tati…)
(Alla batteria… mah… Giampaolo Ascolese…)

The lady… u au o a gu ga l-l-lady
P-rip-pi-drie p-du-pi-di
Ta-ra dat-ti rop-pei-ro
Op ria-so-te-co-pa-to-ci-da-ca-po-apo-po-pop-peee
Uo-o-o-o-o-o-ooo ah!

(Grazie, grazie signori, grazie)
(Arrivederla, grazie… l’orchestra… oppla)