La vie bohemme B Songtext
von Jonathan Larson

Who died?
Our Akita
Evita

You make fun, yet I′m the one
Attempting to do some good
Or do you really want a neighborhood
Where people piss on your stoop every night?

Bohemia, Bohemia's
A fallacy in your head
This is Calcutta
Bohemia is dead


Dearly beloved
We gather here to say our goodbyes
(Dies irae, dies illa)
Here she lies
(Kyrie eleison)
(Yitgadal v′yitkadash)
No one knew her worth
The late great daughter of Mother Earth
On these nights when we celebrate the birth

In that little town of Bethlehem
We raise our glass, you bet your ass to
La vie boheme

La vie boheme
La vie boheme
La vie boheme
La vie boheme

To days of inspiration, playing hooky, making something out of nothing
The need to express, to communicate
To going against the grain, going insane, going mad

To loving tension, no pension, to more than one dimension
To starving for attention hating convention, hating pretension
Not to mention of course hating dear old mom and dad

To riding your bike midday past the three piece suits
To fruits, to no absolutes
To Absolut, to choice, to the Village Voice
To any passing fad


To being an 'us' for once
Instead of a ′them′
La vie boheme
La vie boheme

Hey mister, she's my sister

So that′s five miso soup
Four seaweed salad
Three soy burger dinner
Two tofu dog platter
And one pasta with meatless balls?

Ew
It tastes the same
If you close your eyes

An' thirteen orders of fries
Is that it here?
Wine and beer!

To hand crafted beers made in local breweries
To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese
To leather, to dildos to curry vindaloo
To huevos rancheros and Maya Angelou

Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion
Creation, vacation,

Mucho masturbation
Compassion, to fashion, to passion when it′s new

To Sontag, to Sondheim, to anything taboo
Ginsberg, Dylan, Cunningham and Cage
Lenny Bruce, Langston Hughes, to the stage

To Uta, to Buddha, Pablo Neruda, too
Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow
To blow off auntie Em

La vie boheme
Sisters?

We're close

Brothers!
Bisexuals, trisexuals, homo sapiens
Carcinogens, hallucinogens, men, Pee Wee Herman
German wine, turpentine, Gertrude Stein

Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurosawa, Carmina Burana
To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstasy
Vaclav Havel, The Sex Pistols, 8BC
To no shame never playing the fame game

To marijuana
To sodomy, it′s between god and me

To S&M
Waiter, waiter, waiter
La vie boheme

Waiter
In honor of the death of Bohemia
An impromptu salon will commence immediately following dinner
Maureen Johnson, just back from her spectacular one-night engagement
At The Eleventh Street Lot
Will perform Native American tribal chants, backwards
Through her vocoder, while accompanying herself on the electric cello

Which she ain't never studied
And Mark Cohen will preview his new documentary

About his inability to hold an erection on the high holy days
And Mimi Marquez, clad only in bubble wrap
Will perform her famous lawn chair handcuff dance
To the sounds of iced tea being stirred
And Roger will attempt to write a bittersweet, evocative song
That doesn't remind us of Musetta′s Waltz
Angel Dumott Schunard will model the latest fall fashions from Paris
While accompanying herself on the 10 gallon plastic pickle tub
And Collins will recount his exploits as an anarchist
Including the tale of his successful reprogramming
Of the M.I.T. virtual reality equipment
To self-destruct as it broadcast the words
Actual reality, act up, fight AIDS
Excuse me, did I do something wrong?
I get invited, then ignored all night long
I′ve been trying, I'm not lying
No one′s perfect, I've got baggage
Life′s too short, babe time is flying
I'm looking for baggage that goes with mine
I should tell you
I′ve got baggage too
I should tell you
Baggage, wine and beer
AZT break
You?
Me, you?
Mimi