Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M.

1. I can hear the soft breathing of the girl that I love

as she lies here beside me asleep with the night

and her hair in a fine mist floats on my pillow

reflecting the glow of the winter moonlight.

2. She is soft she is warm but my heart remains heavy

and I watch as her breasts gently rise gently fall

for I know with the first light of dawn I'll be leaving

and tonight will be all I have left to recall.

3. Oh what have I done why have I done it

I've comitted a crime I've broken the law

for twenty-five dollars and pieces of silver

I held up and robbed a hard liquor store.

4. My life seems unreal my crime an illusion

a scene badly written in which I must play

yet I know as I gaze at my young love beside me

the morning is just a few hours away.