Monday, March 24, 2008

Just like Tom Thumb's Blues

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 outa 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 doctorWon'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 steals 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 here
And man they expect the same
Now all the authorities
They just stand around and boast
How they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms into leavin his post
And picking up Angel
Who just arrive here from the Coast
Who looked so fine at first
But left looking just like a ghost
(Just thought I'd lighten your mood on on this Easter Monday... Not for nothing is Bob Dyland called
"An American genius")


Anonymous said...

that's the way Mr. Jones sees it,too...

Anonymous said...

Somethin's happenin'


Anonymous said...

Ah, mama
... Can this really be the end?

JM said...

Always seems to happen at about
Easter time

Charles Gramlich said...

That really is good. Have you ever read Dylan's "Tarantala?" If so, what did you think of it?

eric1313 said...

Dylan is a god, that's agreed.

The Nirvana spirit resides in this post, and it starts with that particular picture. said...


I was a much younger man when I read TARANTULA.
I liked the idea,"Ballad of Phombus Pucker" and theDADA postman, aviator glasses and all.
...Was very much on a surreal kick then; saw TARANTULLA as much-underrated.
Was (very much) on the edges of McLUhan's circle then. Loved that type of book.

Anonymous said...

Happy Ester Monday, Eric.

...Thanks. I'm firing on only two cylinders today.


Middle Ditch said...

Lovely post Ivan, cheered me up no end. Wedding bells are ringing here. I need to go shopping for an outfit and I HATE shopping. Yikes! said...

Hi Monique.

Omigod! Everybody has someone married in the Spring.
Wish, someteimes, my daugher would hurry up, but sho is sort of modern.

benjibopper said...

i should really read Tarantula. I loved Chronicles, great read, especially for a fan.

anyway, great song, but i always preferred the one right after it:

They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row

etc... said...


Not to besmirch the great Zimmermann, but I swear I have been in similar scenese in upper class Mexican parties with the whaff of marijana rising high.

benjibopper said...

to me the whole song reeks of nawlins.

Anonymous said...

To get a little personal, I feel a little bit with Fats Domino, when sings, "This time I'm ...
Walkin' to New Orleans."

Come to think of it, I just read your blog. Heh.


Josie said...

You okay, Boychik? said...

Depressing stuff, sometimes, i's'nit? :-)


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