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Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues (Live at Madison Square Garden, New York City, NY - January 30, 1974)
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Listen to The 1974 Live Recordings Sampler by Bob Dylan
ALBUMThe 1974 Live Recordings SamplerBob Dylan

Top Songs By Bob Dylan

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Bob Dylan
Bob Dylan
Vocals
The Band
The Band
Performer
Robbie Robertson
Robbie Robertson
Guitar
Garth Hudson
Garth Hudson
Organ
Richard Manuel
Richard Manuel
Piano
Rick Danko
Rick Danko
Bass Guitar
Levon Helm
Levon Helm
Drums
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bob Dylan
Bob Dylan
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Steven Berkowitz
Steven Berkowitz
Producer
Rob Fraboni
Rob Fraboni
Recording Engineer
Phil Ramone
Phil Ramone
Recording Engineer
Steve Addabbo
Steve Addabbo
Mastering Engineer
Chris Shaw
Chris Shaw
Mixing Engineer
Ed Barton
Ed Barton
Engineer
Bill Broms
Bill Broms
Engineer
Jack Crymes
Jack Crymes
Engineer
Biff Dawes
Biff Dawes
Engineer
Deane Jensen
Deane Jensen
Engineer

Lyrics

When you're lost in the rain in Juarez and it's Easter time too
And your gravity's down, and negativity don't get you through
Just don't put on any airs when you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue
They got some hungry women there and they'll really make a mess outta you
Now if you see Saint Annie, please tell her, "Thanks a lot"
I cannot move so well today, my fingers are all tied in a knot
I don't have the strength to get up and take another shot
And my best friend, the doctor, won't even tell me what it is I've got
Sweet Melinda, the peasants call her the Goddess of Gloom
She speaks good English and invites you up into her room
And you're so kind, and careful not to go to her too soon
As she steals your voice and leaves you howling at the moon
Up on Housing Project Hill, it's either fortune or fame
You must pick one or the other, 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
I'm picking up Angel who just arrived here from the coast
Who looked so fine at first, but left lookin' just like a ghost
Started out on Burgundy, but, soon, I hit the harder stuff
Everybody said they'd stand behind me when the game got a little too rough
But the joke was on me, there was no one even there to call my bluff
I'm going back to New York City, I do believe I've had enough
Written by: Bob Dylan

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