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Wednesday Morning 3 Am Simon & Garfunkel
I can h[F]ear the soft b[Dm]reathing of the [Bb]girl that I l[Am]ove,
As she l[F]ies here bes[Gm]ide me asl[C]eep with the night,
And her h[F]air, in a f[Dm]ine mist fl[Bb]oats on my p[Am]illow,
Refl[F]ecting the g[Gm]low of the w[Bb]int[C]er moonli[F]ght.
She is s[F]oft, she is w[Dm]arm, but my [Bb]heart remains he[Am]avy,
And I wa[F]tch as her br[Gm]easts gently r[C]ise, gently fall,
For I k[F]now with the fi[Dm]rst light of d[Bb]awn I'll be l[Am]eaving,
And toni[F]ght will be [Gm]all I have l[Bb]eft to reca[F]ll.
Oh, w[F]hat have I d[Dm]one, w[Bb]hy have I d[Am]one it,
I've comm[F]itted a c[Gm]rime, I've b[C]roken the law,
For twe[F]nty-five d[Dm]ollars and p[Bb]ieces of [Am]silver,
I he[F]ld up and r[Gm]obbed a h[Bb]ard liquor s[F]tore.
My l[F]ife seems unr[Dm]eal, my c[Bb]rime an il[Am]lusion,
A sc[F]ene badly w[Gm]ritten in w[C]hich I must play,
Yet I k[F]now as I g[Dm]aze at my y[Bb]oung love bes[Am]ide me,
The mo[F]rning is j[Gm]ust a few [Bb]hou[C]rs a[F]way.
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