Across the Border

The Perfect Crime


Slipping like the snow on a mountainside
The beauty queen is going for a ride
Spurred on by nothing at all besides
A desire for silence and the need to hide

Up in the highrise and wanting no more
The little old lady paces the floor
Staring all day at the streets below
Waiting all day for the knock on the door

Swinging like a pendulum at the end of time
Reading like a story with no sense or rhyme
Living the high life and lying low
This might just have been the perfect crime

And down on the streets and marking time
Nick the nark is feeling fine
A handful of notes for nothing more
Than dropping another friend into the line

And deep in the sewer and living in fear
The mastermind sheds another bitter tear
As he turns his seething mind
To another plan in another year

Swinging like a pendulum at the end of time
Reading like a story with no sense or rhyme
Living the high life and lying low
This might just have been the perfect crime

(Jameson/Rowley)