MARK: Here she lies, no one knew her worth
The late great daughter of Mother Earth
In that little town of Bethlehem
We raise our glass - you bet your ass to -
MARK: To days of inspiration
To going against the grain,
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
Midday past the three-piece suits
To fruits - to no absolutes-
To being an us for once ... instead of a them!!
MIMI & ANGEL: To hand-crafted beers
To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese
To leather, to dildos, to curry vindaloo
To Huevos Rancheros and Maya Angelou
MARK, ANGEL & MIMI: Bisexuals, trisexuals, homo sapiens,
Carcinogens, hallucinogens, men,
German wine, turpetine, Gertrude Stein
Antoniotti, Bertolucci, Kurosawa
ALL: To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstacy
Vaclav Havel - The Sex Pistols, 8BC
To no shame - never playing the Fame Game
COLLINS: In honor of the death of Bohemia an impromptu salon
Will commence immediately following dinner ...
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.
MARK: 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!"