sing muse of the passion 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 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 crime 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 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 crime 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 bastard 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