And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary
After all the jacks are in their boxes
And the clowns have all gone home to bed
You can hear happiness staggering on downstream
Footprints 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
And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary
The traffic-lights, they turn blue tomorrow
Shine their emptiness down on my bed
The tiny island sails on downstream
'Cause the life that lived is dead
And the wind screams Mary
Will the wind ever remember
Names it has blown in the past?
And with this crutch, its old age, and its wisdom
It whispers no, this will be the last
This will be the last
And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary
And the wind cries Mary

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