Let me tell of the time when the world was in love with the sound of our laughter. Monmartre hung with flowers, hose flowers with a note of hunger and of love.
Unaware of our youth, of the sobering truth of the years that came after. We laughed at common man for we were heroes then, and heaven smiled above
La boheme, la boheme, poor hungry you, poor hungry me. La boheme, la boheme, silly old world that could not see.
We were new at the game. We were ready for fame. We were ready for glory. We tried to change the world, but nothing really changed as the years hurry by.
We got lost in out dreams, our impossible dreams - it's the usual story. And when we woke at last, we found our day had passed. Our little time gone by.
La boheme, la boheme, someone to care, someone to lie. La boheme, la boheme, we were in love and love was blind
Now and then I return, and the memories burn with a bitter sweet aching i climb the same old stairs, but no one really cares and there is no one to greet me
in the strets where we walked in the cafe where we talked of a world we were making I stand upon that hill until I've dreamed my fill then I leave it behind
La boheme, la boheme, moments of joy, moments of pain. La boheme, la boheme, nothing will bring them back again.