Tramp What you call me? Tramp You didn’t You don’t wear continental clothes, or stetson hats Well, i tell you one dog-gone thing It makes me feel good to know one thing I know i’m a lover Matter of opinion, baby That’s all right, mama was, (so?) papa too (hmm) And i’m the only child…
 
Oh she may be weary Them young girls they do get wearied Wearing that same old shaggy dress, yeah, yeah But when she gets weary Try a little tenderness, yeah, yeah You know she’s waiting Just anticipating The thing that you’ll never, never, never, never possess, yeah, yeah But while she’s there waiting Without them…