They call me 'Rose of Washington Square'
I'm withering there in basement air

I'm fading
Pose in plain or fancy clothes
They say my rolling nose
It seems to please artistic people

Foes
I've plenty of those
With second-hand clothes

And nice long hair
I've got those Broadway vampires lashed to the mast
I've got no future, but oh, what a past!

I'm Rose of Washington Square