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.