Lyrics:

When you're lost in the rain in juarezAnd it's eastertime tooAnd your gravity failsAnd negativity don't pull you throughDon't put on any airsWhen you're down on rue morgue avenueThey got some hungry women thereAnd they really make a mess outa youNow if you see saint anniePlease tell her thanks a lotI cannot moveMy fingers are all in a knotI don't have the strengthTo get up and take another shotAnd my best friend, my doctorWon't even say what it is I've gotSweet melindaThe peasants call her the goddess of gloomShe speaks good englishAnd she invites you up into her roomAnd you're so kindAnd careful not to go to her too soonAnd she takes your voiceAnd leaves you howling at the moonUp on housing project hillIt's either fortune or fameYou must pick up one or the otherThough neither of them are to be what they claimIf you're lookin' to get sillyYou better go back to from where you cameBecause the cops don't need youAnd man they expect the sameNow all the authoritiesThey just stand around and boastHow they blackmailed the sergeant-at-armsInto leaving his postAnd picking up angel whoJust arrived here from the coastWho looked so fine at firstBut left looking just like a ghostI started out on burgundyBut soon hit the harder stuffEverybody said they'd stand behind meWhen the game got roughBut the joke was on meThere was nobody even there to call my bluffI'm going back to new york cityI do believe I've had enough