When you're lost in the rain in Juarez
When it's Easter time too
And your gravity drops
And negativity don't pull you through
Yes, don't put on no airs
When you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue
They got some hungry women there
And man they really make a mess out of 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 the 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 steals 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 here
And man they expect the same
Now all the authorities
They just stand around and boast
How they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms
To getting up and leave his post
And picking up Angel
Who just arrived here from the coast
Who looked so fine at first
But left here looking just like a ghost
I started out on burgundy
But soon he hit the harder stuff
Everybody said they'd be behind me
When the game got rough
But it was all a big laugh
There was nobody even there to call man a bluff
I'm going back to New York City
I do believe I've had enough

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