Wednesday Morning 3 a.m.

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1. I can hear the soft breathing of the girl that I love 
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   as she lies here beside me asleep with the night 
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   and her hair in a fine mist floats on my pillow 
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   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.