Lyrics:

After all the Jacks are in there boxes

and the CLOWNS HAVE ALL gone to bed

you can hear happiness STAGGERING on down the street

footprints dressed in red

and the wind whispers Mary







A broom is drearly sweeping

of 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 a turn blue tomorrow

and shine the emptiness down on my bed

the tiny island sags down the street

cause the life that lives is dead

and the wind screams Mary.







Will the wind every remember

the names it has blown in the past

and with this crush its old age and its wisdom

it whisper no this will be the last

and the wind cries Mary.