Impressions of a funky basement jazz club where I spent a lot of time back in '97–'98 during my first year in New York. It was a refuge of darkness and music, and it was cheap.

Lyrics

 
She turned me outI oughta be going homeBut I just don’t want to face itI’m going down into the basementI pay the man at the top of the stairsand go on down into the basementI’ll stay all night, nobody cares
 
Got my own red wine, it’s got me feeling betterDown in the dark, I want to stay forever
 
They’re blowing brass and slapping on woodThey’re playing “Straight, No Chaser”They got a gig down in the basementTexas Anne, with her head up and backKinda straddling her chair and blowing smoke into the air
 
Got my own red wine, it’s got me feeling betterDown in the dark, I want to stay forever
 
Going down into the basementGoing down into the basementGoing down into the basementAnd I ain’t coming up until the dawn