Just Like Tom Thumb Blues
Bob Dylan

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When you're lost in the rain in Juarez when it's Easter time, too
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And your gravity fails and negativity don't pull you through
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Don't put on any airs when you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue
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They got some hungry women there and they really make a mess out of you

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Now, if you see Saint Annie, please tell her thanks a lot
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I cannot move, my fingers are all in a knot
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I don't have the strength to get up and take another shot
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And my best friend, my doctor, won't even say what it is I've got

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Sweet Melinda, the peasants call her the goddess of gloom
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She speaks good English and she invites you up into her room
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And you're so kind and careful not to go to her too soon
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And she takes your voice and leaves you howling at the moon

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Up on Housing Project Hill, it's either fortune or fame
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You must pick one or the other, though neither of them are to be what they claim
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If you're lookin' to get silly, you better go back to from where you came
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Because the cops don't need you, and man, they expect the same

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Now, all the authorities, they just stand around and boast
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How they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms into leaving his post
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And picking up Angel, who just arrived here from the coast
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Who looked so fine at first but left looking just like a ghost

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I started out on burgundy but soon hit the harder stuff
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Everybody said they'd stand behind me when the game got rough
        G                                              D
But the joke was on me, there was nobody even there to bluff
          A                        G                    D
I'm going back to New York City, I do believe I've had enough
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I'm going back to New York City, I do believe I've had enough