| Lyrics: | When your lost in the rain in Juarez and it's Easter time too
When your gravity is down and
negativity won't pull you through
Don't you put on any airs when you down on Rue Morgue
Avenue.
They got some hungry creatures there they'll surely make a mess out of
you
If you see St Annie, please tell her thanks alot
My thoughts they are twisted,
my tentacles are all in a knot
I don't even have the strength to get up and take another
shot.
Now my best friend, my drummer, won't even tell what it was that I dropped
Now
sweet Melinda, the peasants call her the goddess of gloom.
She speaks good English as she
invites you up into her room.
And you, you were so damn conscientious, you couldn't go to her
too soon
Still she takes your voice and leaves you howling at the moon.
Up on
Housing Project Hill, it's either fortune or fame
You must choose one or the other though
neither are to be what they claim
If you're looking to get silly, you better get back from
where you came
You know the cops don't need you and we all expect the same.
Now all
the authorities, they just lay around and boast
About how they blackmailed the President into
leaving his post.
And picking up Angel,
Who arrived up here from the coast,
Who
looked so fine at first, but left looking like a ghost.
Now I started out heinakin, still
hit the harder stuff
Everybody swore they 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 goin' back to San Enselmo, I
do believe I had enough |
