(Bob Dylan)
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When you're lost in the rain in Juarez and it's Eastertime too
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And your gravity fails and negativity won'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'll really make a mess out of you
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Well if you see Saint Annie please tell her thanks a lot
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I cannot move and my fingers they 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 the doctor won't even say what it is I 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 she leaves you howling at the moon
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Well 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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And if you're looking 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 and she left looking just like a ghost
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Well I started out on burgundy but soon hit the harder stuff
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Everybody said they'd stand beside me when the game got rough
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But the joke was on me there was nobody even there to bluff
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I'm going back to New York City I do believe I've had enough
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Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues
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Linda Ronstadt |