Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues Lyrics - Highway 61 Revisited - Bob Dylan

When you're lost in the rain in Juarez 

And it's Eastertime 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 they really make a mess outta you 

Now if you see Saint Annie 

Please tell her thanks a lot 

I cannot move 

My fingers are all in a knot 

I don't have the strength 

To get up and take another shot 

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 

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 she takes your voice 

And leaves you howling at the moon 

Up on Housing Project Hill 

It's either fortune or fame 

You must pick up one or the other 

Though neither of them are to be what they claim 

If you're lookin' to get silly 

You better go back to from where you came 

Because the cops don't need you 

And man they expect the same 

Photos 

Now all the authorities 

They just stand around and boast 

How they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms 

Into leaving his post 

And picking up Angel who 

Just arrived here from the coast 

Who looked so fine at first 

But left looking just like a ghost 

I started out on burgundy 

But soon hit the harder stuff 

Everybody said they'd stand behind me 

When the game got rough 

But the joke was on me 

There was nobody even there to call my bluff 

I'm going back to New York City 

I do believe I've had enough