When you're lost 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 man, they really make a mess out of you If you see Saint Annie

Tell her thanks a lot

I cannot move

And my fingers are all in a knot And I haven't got the strength

To get up and take another shot

And my best friend the 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 then she takes your voice

And leaves you howling at the moon Up on project hill

It's either fortune or fame

You can take one or the other

Though neither of them are to be what they claim And If you're looking to get silly

You'd better go back from where you came

Because the cops don't need you

And man, they expect the same All the authorities

They just stand around and boast

How they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms

Into leaving his post And picking up my brother Carl

who just arrived here from the coast

Who looked so fine at first

But left looking like a ghost Well, that's it folks, that's it Well I started out on burgundy

But soon hit the harder stuff

Everybody said they'd stand behind me

When the game got rough Ah, but the joke was on me

There was no-one there even to bluff

I'm going back to New York City

I do believe I've had enough