text: Down in the cellar in the Boho Zone
  I went looking for some sweet inspiration, oh well
  Just another hard time band with Negro affectations
  I was a hopeful in rooms like this
  When I was working cheap
  Its an old romance, the Boho dance
  Hasnt gone to sleep
  But even on the scuffle
  The cleaners press was in my jeans
  And any eye for detail
  Caught a little lace along the seams
  And you were in the parking lot
  Subterranean by your own design
  The virtue of your style inscribed
  On your contempt for mine
  Jesus was a beggar, He was rich in grace
  And Solomon kept his head in all his glory
  Its just that some steps outside the Boho dance
  Have a fascination for me
  A camera pans the cocktail hour
  Behind a blind of potted palms
  And finds a lady in a Paris dress
  With runs in her nylons
  You read those books where luxury
  Comes as a guest to take a slave
  Books where artists in noble poverty
  Go like virgins to the grave
  Dont you get sensitive on me
  Cause I know youre just too proud
  You couldnt step outside the Boho dance now
  Even if good fortune allowed
  Like a priest with a pornographic watch
  Looking and longing on the sly
  Sure its stricken from your uniform
  But you just cant get it out of your eyes
  Nothing is capsulized in me
  On either side of town
  The streets were never really mine
  Not mine, not mine, these glamor gowns
  Ah-ah-ah