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 outa 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 bluff

I'm going back to New York City
I do believe I've had enough.