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When you're lost in the rain in Juarez
And it's Easter time, 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 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, 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 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

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