Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues

When you're lost in the rain in Juarez

When 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

As 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 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 bluff

I'm going back to New York City

I do believe I've had enough