Sammy And Mama Cass

Nobody can tell ya;
There's only one song worth singin'.
They may try and sell ya,
'cause it hangs them up
to see someone like you.
But you've gotta make your own kind of music
sing your own special song,
make your own kind of music even if nobody
else sing along.
So if you cannot take my hand,
and if you must be goin',
I will understand.
You're gonna be knowing
the loneliest kind of lonely.
It may be rough goin',
just to do your thing's
the hardest thing to do.
But you've gotta make your own kind of music
sing your own special song,
make your own kind of music even if nobody
else sings along.
So if you cannot take my hand,
and if you must be goin',
I will understand.
You gotta make your own kind of music
sing your own special song,
make your own kind of music even if nobody
else sings along.

The Lady Is A Tramp: Sammy Davis Jr.

From a 1960 television show filmed at Heffner's mansion

I've wined and dined on Mulligan stew
And never wished for turkey
As I hitched and hiked and drifted, too,
From Maine to Albuquerque.
Alas, I missed the Beaux Arts Ball,
What is twice as sad,
I was never at a party
Where they honored Noel Ca' ad.
But her social circles spin too fast for me.
Hark, I thought I heard a pistol shot
My Hobohemia is the place I wanna be.

She gets too hungry for dinner at eight
She loves the theater, but refuses to arrive late
She will never bother with some cat that she hates
And that is why the lady is a tramp
Won't go to Coney, any beach is divine
She digs the ball games, but the bleacher's are fine
She reads Kilgallen, and I mean every line
That's why the lady is a tramp
She likes that free fresh jazz in her hair
Her life's without care
She's flat, that's that
For Lenny Bruce she whistles and stamps
That's why the lady is a tramp
She likes that free fresh wind in her hair
Life without care
She is broke, that is oke
Hates California, it's cold and is damp
That's why the lady is a tramp
Why the lady
That kooky, kooky lady
Why the lady is a tramp