Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues

When you're lost in the rain in Juarez
 And it's Eastertime too
 And your gravity fails
 And negativity don't pull you through
 Don't put on any airs
 When you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue
 They got some hungry women there
 And they really make a mess outta you
 Now if you see Saint Annie
 Please tell her thanks a lot
 I cannot move
 My fingers are all in a knot
 I don't have the strength
 To get up and take another shot
 And my best friend, my doctor
 Won't even say what it is I've got
 Sweet Melinda
 The peasants call her the goddess of gloom
 She speaks good English
 And she invites you up into her room
 And you're so kind
 And careful not to go to her too soon
 And she takes your voice
 And leaves you howling at the moon
 Up on Housing Project Hill
 It's either fortune or fame
 You must pick up one or the other
 Though neither of them are to be what they claim
 If you're lookin' to get silly
 You better go back to from where you came
 Because the cops don't need you
 And man they expect the same
 Now all the authorities
 They just stand around and boast
 How they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms
 Into leaving his post
 And picking up Angel who
 Just arrived here from the coast
 Who looked so fine at first
 But left looking just like a ghost
 I started out on burgundy
 But soon hit the harder stuff
 Everybody said they'd stand behind me
 When the game got rough
 But the joke was on me
 There was nobody even there to call my bluff
 I'm going back to New York City
 I do believe I've had enough