Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues --- Bob Dylan
When you’re [G]lost in the rain in Juarez [C]and it’s Eastertime [G]too,
And your [G]gravity fails and nega-[C]tivity don’t pull you [G]through.
Don’t [C]put on any airs when you’re down on Rue Morgue Ave-[G]nue.
They’ve got some [D]hungry women there, they’ll [C]really make a mess out of [G]you.
Now if [G]you see Saint Annie, [C]please tell her, “Thanks a [G]lot.”
I [G]can not move and my [C]fingers are all in a [G]knot.
I [C]don’t have the strength to get up and take another [G]shot.
And my [D]best friend, my doctor, won’t [C]even say what it is (that) I’ve [G]got.
[G]Sweet Melinda, the [C]peasants call her the Goddess of [G]Doom.
She [G]speaks good English and (she) in-[C]vites you up into her [G]room.
And [C]you’re so kind and careful not to go to her too [G]soon.
And she [D]takes your voice and [C]leaves you howling at the [G]moon.
Up on [G]Housing Project Hill it’s [C]either fortune or [G]fame.
You must [G]pick one or the other, though [C]neither of them are to be what they [G]claim.
If you’re [C]looking to get silly, you’d better go back to from where you [G]came.
Because the [D]cops don’t need you, and [C]man, they expect the [G]same.
Now [G]all the authorities, [C]they just stand around and [G]boast,
How they [G]blackmailed the sergeant-at-[C]arms into leaving his [G]post.
And [C]picking up Angel, who just arrived here from the [G]coast.
Who looked [D]so fine at first, but [C]left looking just like a [G]ghost.
I [G]started out on Burgundy, but [C]soon hit the harder [G]stuff.
Every-[G]body said they’d stand be-[C]hind me when the game got [G]rough.
But the [C]joke was on me – there was nobody even there to call my [G]bluff.
I’m going [D]back to New York City. I [C]do believe I’ve had e-[G]nough.