Disclaimer: Marvel owns Spidey, Boho Days belongs to the late, great Jonathan Larson, because of whom I began writing fan fiction.

Authoress Note: Well, returning to my roots as a RENT writer, in a way. Mary Jane is contemplating the Bohemian lifestyle.

To the lunch table girlys.

MJMJMJMJMJ

Boho Days

Don't step on Samone
Over knowing Phillipe
They're still on the living room floor, asleep
Flight was delayed
But they got it so cheap
In Amsterdam

I know, I know, a true artist suffers for her art. But this is just crazy. There are people on my fire escape. People whom I do not know. And there are people in the lobby, more people whom I do not know and I'm fairly certain do not even live in this building. There are people everywhere!

The cat jumped off
Of the fire escape
He's a little shook up
But he don't have a scrape
Climb up to the roof
Let's make a crepe
You bring the jam

My neighbor's cat literally "fell" off the fire escape. Either that, or there were just way too many people out there and the poor thing just got shoved to the side. Then, another neighbor, a crazy guy in a t-shirt featuring Peter, I mean, Spider-man, on the front. He invited me to come up to the roof and "make a crepe", whatever he meant by that.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I have a boyfriend."

The creep, clearly not believing me, snorted. "Who is he? Spider-man?" He asked with a laugh.

With more honesty than he could have ever guess, I shut my door with a simple, "Yes."

This is the life, bo bo, bo bo bo
This is the life, bo bo, bo bo bo
This is the life, bo bo, bo bo bo
Bohemia

Remind me why I'm here again?

Shower's in the kitchen
There might be some soap
Dishes in the sink
Brush your teeth, if you can cope
Toilettes in the closet
You better hope
There's a light bulb in there

Don't get me started on the closet, either, don't even get me started. I open it to put my clothes in. And there, in all of it's porcelain white glory, is the toilet.

Nor is there a dishwasher, or a normal sized fridge. Or an sanity.

Dino called yesterday
The rent is overdue
Con Ed and New York Telephone, are mad too
Better screen the calls for a day or two
Or cough up your share

Shows how much I know. When I answered the phone, and the woman told me that she was Con Ed, I thought, Gee, I've never met a woman named Ed before.

This is the life, bo bo, bo bo bo
This is the life, bo bo, bo bo bo
This is the life, bo bo, bo bo bo
Bohemia

Why am I living here?

Revolving door roommates
Prick up your ears
Fourteen people in just four years
Anna, Max and Jonathan

And Jonathan and Cary
David, Tim, no Tim was just a guest
From June to January
Margaret, Lisa, David, Susie,
Stephen, Joe and Sam
And Elsa, the bill collector's dream
Is still on the lam

Oh, and the apartment above me? It has six people living in it, and they all seem to be nocturnal. They all come in in the middle of the night, yelling around, and every time someone has to use the bathroom, I hear that, too.

This is the life, bo bo, bo bo bo
This is the life, bo bo, bo bo bo
This is the life, bo bo, bo bo bo
Bohemia

Time for some almost-sarcasm: I hate my life.

At 508 the halls
Are still that dingy brown
508, the walls are cracked or falling down
508, we all know the day it changes
Is the day we all should blow this town

The place needs a major make-over, too. But, looking on the bright side, the apartment is so bad that no super villain would dare come in here just to kidnap little old me.

Don't forget the neighbors
Michelle and Gay
More like a family
Than a family, hey

Or, if they did, my neighbors may inadvertently murder them before they got to me.

The garbage trucks
Have turned into limousines
Rat infested diners
Now are fancy restaurants
The gallery opens
You know what that means

Harry asked me to move into the penthouse with him.

There goes the neighborhood
Here come the debutantes.

And, you know what, I'm going to take him up on that offer.

The time is flying
And everything is dying
I thought by now
I'd have a dog, a kid, and wife
The ship is sort of sinking
So let's start Drinking
Before we start thinking
Is this a life?

Is this a life? No, no, no, no, no
Bohemia

Bo, bo, bo, bo