"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.
But I've got to creep down the alleyways,
fly down the highways.
Before they come to catch me I'll be gone -
Somewhere they can't find me.
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 don't 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.
I've got to creep down the alleyways,
fly down the highways.
Before they come to catch me I'll be gone -
Somewhere they can't find.
My life seems unreal, my crime an illusion,
a scene badly written in which I must play.
(And though it puts me uptight to leave you…)
But I know as I gaze at my young love beside me
(I know it's not right to leave you…)
the morning is just a few hours away.
