When youre lost in the rain
In Juarez and its Easter time too
When youre gravitys down
And negativity wont pull you through
Dont you put on any airs
When youre down on Rue Morgue Avenue
They got some hungry creatures there
Surely make a mess out of you
Well, if you see St. Annie
Please tell her, thanks a lot
My hair was twisted
And my stocks, woo-hoo, are all in a knot
I dont even have the strength
To get up and crawl across the floor for another shot
And my best friend, my drummer
Wont even tell me, what it was that I dropped
Yeah, sweet Melinda
The peasants call her the Goddess of Gloom
She has, speaks good English
As she invites you up into her room
And you, you were so kinda conscientious
Not to go to her too soon
But she steals your voice
And leaves you howling at the moon
Up on Housing Project Hill
Its either fortune or fame
You must choose one or the other
But neither are to be what they claim
If youre looking to get silly
You better get back to from where you came
Because the cops dont need you ever
And they expect the same
I started out on Heineken
But I soon hit the harder stuff
Everybody swore they stand beside me
When the game got rough
But the joke was on me
There wasnt even anybody there to bluff
Im goin back to New York City
I do believe Ive had enough