The wind cries Mary-Jimi Hendrix Atter all the jacks are in their boxes. And the clowns have all gone 2 bed. U can hear happiness staggering on down the street. Footsteps dressed in red. And the wind whispers Mary. A broom is drearily sweeping. Up the broken pieces of yesterdays life. Somewhere a queen is weeping. Somewhere a king has no wife. And the wind,it cries Mary. The traffic lights,they turn,Uh,blue tomorrow. And shine their emptiness down on my bed. The tiny island sags down stream. 'Cause the life that lived is,is dead. And the wind screams Mary. Uh-will the wind ever remember. The names it has blow in the past ? And with this crutch,its old age,& its wisdom. It whispers no,this will be the last. And the wind cries Mary.
