the perfect crime #2 - the decemberists lyrics
sing muse with p-ssion of the pistol
sing muse of the warning by the whistle
on a night so dark in the waning
a dawn obscured by slight sky raining, oh oh
five and twenty burglars by the reservoir
a teenage lookout on the signal tower
the mogul’s daughter in hog-tie
the mogul figures the wrong guy, all right
it was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect crime
it was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect crime
the bagman’s quaking at the fingers
the hand-off glance a little lingers
a well-dressed man in the crosshairs
a shot rings out from somewhere upstairs
it was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect crime
it was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect crime
it was the perfect crime
it was like a ticker-tape parade
when the plastique on the safe was blown away
and we all gaze from eye to eye
as we mouth our silent goodbyes
the valley’s sleeping like a b-st-rd
it stinks of slumber and disaster
two words are spoken with tap wire
the agent’s ploy finds a surefire backfire
it was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect crime
it was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect crime
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