(Jimi Hendrix)

And after all the Jacks are in their boxes
And the clowns have all gone to bed
You can hear the happiness staggering on downstream
Footprints dressed in red

And the wind whispers Mary

A broom is drearily sweeping
Up the broken peices of yesterday's life
Somewhere a Queens is weepin'
Somewhere a King has no wife

And the wind cries Mary

Mary

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

The traffic lights they turn blue tomorrow
And shine their emptiness down on my bed
Their tiny island sags on downstream
'Cause the life that lived is dead

And the wind screams Mary
Now will that wind ever remember
All those names it has blown in the past
Now with it's crutch, it's old age and it's wisdom
It whispers "No, this will be the last"

And the wind screams Mary

Mary

Mary