The Wind Cries MaryJimi Hendrix_______________________________________After all the jacks are in their boxesAnd the clowns have all gone to bedYou can hear happiness standin' on down the streetFootprints dressed in redAnd the wind whispers MaryA broom is drearily sweepingUp the broken peices 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 sends downstreamBecause the light that there was is deadAnd the wind screams MaryWill the wind ever rememberThe names it has blown in the past?And with it's crush,it's old age,it's it's wisdomIt whispers no,this will be the lastAnd the wind cries Mary________________________________________