The Wind Cries Mary - Jimi Hendrix

After all the jacks

Are in their 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 drearily sweeping

Up the broken pieces of yesterday's life

Somewhere a queen is weeping

Somewhere a king has no wife

And the wind it cries Mary

The traffic lights they

Turn up blue tomorrow

And shine their emptiness

Down on my bed

The tiny island

Sags downstream

'Cause the life that lived is is dead

And the wind screams Mary

Will the wind ever remember

The names it has blown in the past

And with his crutch

It's old age

And it's wisdom

It whispers no

This will be the last

And the wind cries Mary