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.

Put Me On

by Dickey Betts, Mike Lawler and Johnny Cobb
(c) 1980 EMI Blackwood Music Inc., Pangola Publishing Company and
Milene Music, Inc.

Ridin' in a long gray limousine.
Sittin' in a pair of hundred dollar jeans.
Tryin' to talk sense to a rock'n'roll queen.
Damn, best kinda livin' anybody ever seen.
Oh, Angeline.
Chorus:
Lookin' at the bright lights, searchin' for the sliver screen.
I never seen a woman who could look so good,
and be so doggone mean. Yeah.
Oh, midnight struttin' in New York City.
Midnight woman, she is lookin' so pretty.
Her little hea


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