Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues (Live at the Royal Albert Hall)

When you're lost in the rain in Juarez, and it's Easter time too
And your gravity's down, negativity don't pull 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 my fingers, they 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, she invites you up into her room
And you're so kind and careful not to go to her too soon
She takes your voice, 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, better go back to from where you came
'Cause 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
Picking up angel, who just arrived here from the cross
She 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