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... beloved, we gather hear to say our goodbyes [crying and pouding on the table]
Here she lies No one knew her worth
The late great daughter of Mother Earth On this night when we celebrate the birth
In that little town of Bethlehem We raise our glass – you bet your *** to – [cheers] Everyone!
Everyone! [laughs] La Vie Bohème
La Vie Bohème, La Vie Bohème, La Vie Bohème, La Vie Bohème
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 them –
La Vie Bohème, La Vie Bohème
Is this equipment in a pyramid? It is, Maureen
The mixer doesn't have a case, don't give me that face. [laughs]
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
Eww! It tastes the same If you close your eyes
And thirteen orders of fries, is that it here? Wine and beer!
To handcrafted beers made in local breweries To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese
To leather, to ***, to curry vindaloo To huevos rancheros and Maya Angelou
Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion Creation, vacation Mucho ***
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! Whoo! La Vie Bohème
And wipe the speakers off before you pack Yes, Maureen Well – hurry back
Sisters? We're close
Brothers! [laughs and cheers]
Bisexuals, trisexuals, *** 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 Whoo! To marijuana
To sodomy, it's between God and me To S & M
La Vie Bohème
In honor of the death of Bohemia, an impromptu salon will commence immediately following dinner.
Mimi Marquez, clad only in bubble wrap, will perform her famous lawn-chair-handcuff dance to the sounds of iced tea being stirred
Mark Cohen will preview his new documentary about his inability to hold an *** on the high holy days
And Maureen Johnson, back from her spectacular one-night engagement at the 11th Street lot, will sing Native American
tribal chants backward through her vocoder, while accompanying herself on the electric cello which she has never studied
Your new boyfriend doesn't know about us? There's nothing to know.
Don't you think that we should discuss – It was three months ago
He doesn't act like he's with you We're taking it slow
Where is he now? He's right –
Uh huh! Where'd he go?
Roger will attempt to write a bittersweet, evocative song [crowd imitates the guitar for Musetta's theme]
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 ten-gallon plastic pickle tub and Collins will recount his exploits as an anarchist –
including the tale of his successful programing of the MIT virtual-reality equipment to self-destruct as it broadcast the words
"Actual reality – act upt – fight AIDS" Check!
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!
[crowd cheers]