| When your lost in the rain
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| In Juarez and it’s Easter time too
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| When your gravity is down
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| And negativity won’t pull you through
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| Don’t you put on any airs
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| When you down on Rue Morgue Avenue
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| They got some hungry creatures there
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| Surely make a mess out of you
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| Well, if you see St. Annie
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| Please tell her, thanks a lot
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| are all in a knot
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| I don’t even have the strength
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| To get up and crawl across the floor for another shot
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| And my best friend, my drummer
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| Won’t even tell me, what it was that I dropped?
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| Yeah, sweet Melinda
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| The peasants call her the goddess of gloom
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| She has, speaks good English
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| As she invites you up into her room
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| And you, you were so kinda conscientious
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| Not to go to her too soon
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| But she steals your voice
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| And leaves you howling at the moon
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| Up on Housing Project Hill
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| It’s either fortune or fame
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| You must choose one or the other
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| But neither are to be what they claim
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| If you’re looking to get silly
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| You better get back to from where you came
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| Because the cops don’t need you ever
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| And they expect the same
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| Now I started out on Heinakin
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| But I soon hit the harder stuff
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| Everybody swore they stand beside me When the game got rough
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| But the joke was on me There wasn’t even anybody there to bluff
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| I’m goin' back to New York City
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| I do believe I’ve had enough |