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 turned up 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 last to the mast.
I've got no future, but oh! What a past.
I'm Rose of Washington Square.
