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the perfect crime #2 (the perfect crime #2.5.1) - the decemberists lyrics

sing, muse, of the p-ssion of the pistol
sing, muse, of the warning by the whistle
a night so dark in the waning
a dawn obscured by a slate sky raining

five and twenty burglars by the reservoir
a teenage lookout on the signal tower
the mogul’s daughter in hog-tie
the mogul fingers the wrong guy, all right

the bagman’s quaking at the fingers
the hand-off, glance a little lingers
a well-dressed man in the cross-hairs
a shot rings out from somewhere upstairs

it was like a ticker tape parade
when the plastique on the safe was blown away
and we all gazed from eye to eye
as we mouthed our silent goodbyes

the valley’s sleeping like a b-st-rd
it stinks of slumber and disaster
two words are spoke on the tap wire
the agent’s ploy finds a surefire backfire

it was a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect
a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect crime
it was a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect
a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, the perfect crime
it was a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect
a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect
a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect
a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect
a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect
a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect
a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect
a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect crime

- the decemberists lyrics

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