Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M.
Simon and Garfunkel
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.


I can hear the soft [mim]breathing
Of the [Do]girl that I [sim]love,
As she [Sol]lies here be[Do]side me
A[Re]sleep with the night,
And her [Sol]hair, in a [mim]fine mist
[Do]Floats on my [sim]pillow,
Re[Sol]flecting the [Do]glow
Of the [Re]winter moon[Sol]light.