Robyn Hitch***** - The Wind Cries Mary Lyrics
After all the jacks are in their boxesAnd the clowns have all gone to bedYou can hear happiness standing on down the streetFootprints dressed in redAnd the wind whispers MaryA broom is drearily sweepingUp the broken pieces of yesterday's lifeSomewhere a queen is weepingSomewhere a king has no wifeAnd the wind it cries MaryThe traffic lights they turn blue tomorrowAnd shine the emptiness down on my bedThe tiny island sags downstream'Cause the life that lived is deadAnd the wind screams MaryWill the wind ever rememberThe names it has blown in the past, andWith its crutch, its old age, and its wisdomIt whispers no, this will be the lastAnd the wind cries Mary