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The Wind Cries Mary
Xavier Rudd
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After all the jacks are all up in their boxes
And the clowns have all gone to bed
You can hear happiness staggering down the street
Oh, the footprints are all dressed in red
And the wind whispers Mary
ย
A broom is drearily sweeping
Up the broken pieces of yesterdays life
Somewhere a queen, she is weeping
Somewhere, a king has no wife
And the wind, it cries Mary
ย
The traffic lights, they turn blue tomorrow
Shine their emptiness right down upon my bed
And the tiny island sags on down stream
All the life once lived
Is now dead
And the wind screams Mary
Will the wind ever remember
The names it has blow in the past?
With its crutch, and its old age, and its wisdom
Oh, it whispers no, this will be the last
And the wind cries Mary
ย