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 the slate 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 fingers 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 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 sure-fire 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