It's quarter to three,
Nobody's in the bar
Except him and me,
I say, "Put em' up, Joe
I'm havin' money problems,
And I need your dough.."

"I'm sorry, my friend
But they've end-ed my job at the mill
And I need milk for the baby
Give me what's in your till.."

"This ain't my routine
Never even stole a nickel, till now, I mean..
I just hate to rob,
But guys can get desp'rate
When they lose their job."


"This pistol I hold,
Steely cold
Feels so wrong in my hand..
But I need milk for my baby
So please heed my demand.."

"You'd never guess it
But later on, I will confess it
When I telephone the cops to take me in
I'm not a bad guy, just a down and out sad guy
Who got forced into sin.."

"So, that's how it goes
Hand me the green,
And you can lock up and close..
I'll walk out that door,
Disappear, and won't bother
You, anymore."

The bartender says, "No,
You can't rob this dough !"
To the register's tone..
"Here, take this cash for your baby,
We'll just call this a loan.."

"Just take the cash for your baby,
And we'll call this a loan.."