Lyrics of Wednesday morning, 3 a.m.

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.

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.

oh, what have i done,
why have i done it,
i've committed a crime,
i've broken the law.
for twenty-five dollars
and pieces of silver,
i held up and robbed
a hard liquor store.

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.