Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M. - Live at Lincoln Center, New York City, NY - January 1967

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
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 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
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 Oh what have I done, why have I done it?
 I've committed a crime, I've broken the law
 For 25 dollars and pieces of silver
 I held up and robbed a hard liquor store
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 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