Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues

My fingers are all in a knot
Sweet Melinda

I'm going back to New York City
I cannot move
To get up and take another shot
And you're so kind
And she takes your voice
Don't put on any airs

There was nobody to call my bluff
Now if you see Saint Annie

But soon hit the harder stuff
Everybody said they'd stand behind me
I don't have the strength

She speaks good English
Please tell her thanks a lot
When the game got rough
You're careful not to go to her too soon
When you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue
And your gravity fails
But the joke was on me

And negativity don't pull you through
I started out on burgundy
They really make a mess outta you
They got some hungry women there
And my best friend, my doctor
Won't even tell me what I've got
And leaves you howling at the moon
The peasants call her the goddess of gloom
And she takes you to her room