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
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