The Grateful Dead - Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues lyrics
[The Grateful Dead - Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues lyrics]
When you're lost in the rain
In Juarez and it's Easter time too
When you're gravity's down
And negativity won't pull you through
Don't you put on any airs
When you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue
They got some hungry creatures there
Surely make a mess out of you
Well, if you see St annie
Please tell her, "thanks a lot"
My hair was twisted
And my stocks, woo hoo, are all in a knot
I don't even have the strength
To get up and crawl across
The floor for another shot
And my best friend, my drummer
Won't even tell me
What it was that I dropped
Yeah, sweet Melinda
The peasants call her the Goddess of Gloom
She has, speaks good English
As she invites you up into her room
And you, you were so kinda conscientious
Not to go to her too soon
But she steals 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
But neither are to be what they claim
If you're looking to get silly
You better get back to from where you came
Because the cops don't need you ever
And they expect the same
I started out on Heineken
But I soon hit the harder stuff
Everybody swore they stand beside me
When the game got rough
But the joke was on me
There wasn't even anybody there to bluff
I'm goin' back to New York City
I do believe I've had enough
In Juarez and it's Easter time too
When you're gravity's down
And negativity won't pull you through
Don't you put on any airs
When you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue
They got some hungry creatures there
Surely make a mess out of you
Well, if you see St annie
Please tell her, "thanks a lot"
My hair was twisted
And my stocks, woo hoo, are all in a knot
I don't even have the strength
To get up and crawl across
The floor for another shot
And my best friend, my drummer
Won't even tell me
What it was that I dropped
Yeah, sweet Melinda
The peasants call her the Goddess of Gloom
She has, speaks good English
As she invites you up into her room
And you, you were so kinda conscientious
Not to go to her too soon
But she steals 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
But neither are to be what they claim
If you're looking to get silly
You better get back to from where you came
Because the cops don't need you ever
And they expect the same
I started out on Heineken
But I soon hit the harder stuff
Everybody swore they stand beside me
When the game got rough
But the joke was on me
There wasn't even anybody there to bluff
I'm goin' back to New York City
I do believe I've had enough