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When you're lost in the rain in Juarez
And it's Eastertime too
And your gravity fails
And negativity don't pull you through,
Don't put on any airs
When you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue;
They got some hungry women there
And they really make a mess outta you.
Now, if you see Saint Annie,
Please tell her thanks a lot;
I cannot move
My fingers are all in a knot.
I don't have the strength
To get up and take another shot
And my best friend, my doctor,
Won't even say what it is I've got
Sweet Melinda,
The peasants call her the goddess of gloom,
She speaks good English
And she invites you up into her room;
And you're so kind
And careful not to go to her too soon;
And she takes your voice
And leaves you howling at the moon.
Up on Housing Project Hill
It's either fortune or fame.
You must pick up one or the other
Though neither of them are to be what they claim.
If you're lookin' to get silly,
You better go back to from where you came,
Because the cops don't need you
And, man, they expect the same.
Now, all the authorities,
They just stand around and boast
How they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms
Into leaving his post;
And picking up Angel who
Just arrived here from the coast
Who looked so fine at first,
But left looking just like a ghost.
I started out on burgundy
But soon hit the harder stuff.
Everybody said they'd 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 going back to New York City;
I do believe I've had enough.
And it's Eastertime too
And your gravity fails
And negativity don't pull you through,
Don't put on any airs
When you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue;
They got some hungry women there
And they really make a mess outta you.
Now, if you see Saint Annie,
Please tell her thanks a lot;
I cannot move
My fingers are all in a knot.
I don't have the strength
To get up and take another shot
And my best friend, my doctor,
Won't even say what it is I've got
Sweet Melinda,
The peasants call her the goddess of gloom,
She speaks good English
And she invites you up into her room;
And you're so kind
And careful not to go to her too soon;
And she takes your voice
And leaves you howling at the moon.
Up on Housing Project Hill
It's either fortune or fame.
You must pick up one or the other
Though neither of them are to be what they claim.
If you're lookin' to get silly,
You better go back to from where you came,
Because the cops don't need you
And, man, they expect the same.
Now, all the authorities,
They just stand around and boast
How they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms
Into leaving his post;
And picking up Angel who
Just arrived here from the coast
Who looked so fine at first,
But left looking just like a ghost.
I started out on burgundy
But soon hit the harder stuff.
Everybody said they'd 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 going back to New York City;
I do believe I've had enough.
Lyrics submitted by ZinbobDan
Track duration: 05:28
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All the verses are detailing the archetypal temptations/sins that a person can succumb to: despair =gravity fails/negativity, Pride = Don't put on any airs, greed/lust=hungry women, lethargy=I cannot move/My fingers are all in a knot/don't have the strength, superstition=[the gypsy soothsayer in her room] the peasants call her the goddess of gloom, lack of faith=steals your voice (Zechariah lost his voice when he refused to believe), paganism/lust=howling at the moon, It's either fortune or fame=Satan's temptations of Jesus, idleness=just stand around, pride/vanity=boast, corruption=blackmail, and addiction=I started out on burgundy But soon hit the harder stuff. Salvation is found by becoming true to oneself (the truth will set you free): no one there to call my bluff, which is a poker reference. When no one is around to ask you to reveal your hand, you can still see your own cards, you can't fool yourself. It ends with faith "I do believe I've had enough".
Why is being lost being played off against it being Easter time too? Easter time is about being found/saved. Also, Juarez is across from El Paso, the boundary between Mexico and the US - it an image of not knowing one's borders/boundaries and descending into the valley in between. The song is about forgetting about one's limits and suffering the consequences (lost in the rain/you're down/really make a mess out of you/I cannot move/leaves you howling at the moon (insane?)/the joke was on me There was nobody even there to call my bluff (losing one's real friends).
Of course, it may have been primarily influenced by other stories, that were in turn influenced by these concepts.
That said, this is one of his more straightforward songs from the period, IMO. I have no idea what Housing Project Hill is, but other than that, it's a simple story of an (unsuccessful) trip to Juarez. I just don't see many hidden meanings.
FWIW, I think thet Neil Young's live cover of this, from the 30th Anniversary Concert, is the best cover of any Dylan song I've ever heard, and much better than Bob's original.
my favorite lines are "if you're lookin to get silly,you better go back to form where you came. cause the cops don't need you and man, they expect the same" HA!
Not only San Francisco, but Kerouac and co. made several trips to Mexico (the song cites Juarez). Drugs, prostitutes and so where also a constant in the work of the Beat Generation and this song contents plenty of these stuff.
i don think the song is ramblings of a drugged guy.. most of what Bob writes are personal / political at his time which most often than not only he knows..
First verse - feeling down, but there's some women in this city who "can make a mess out of you"
Second verse - experience with the prostitute, but the doctor won't tell him what disease he's caught from her (or can't identify the disease)
Third verse - (A better) experience of a prostitute
Fourth verse - How many of the women ended up in prostitution. "It's either fortune or fame. You must pick up one or the other. Though neither of them are to be what they claim" Ends with a note that the police don't care about them and they expect you to leave them alone
Fifth verse - The visits to the prostitutes didn't make narrator feel any better, he was/is becoming an alcoholic/drug addict (depends how you read it). He's going home as he is sick of this place that has done no good for him
I wonder if Mr Dylan has a natural distrust of people in authority :)