Well after all the jacks are in there boxes
And the crowns all gone to bed
You can hear happiness staggering on down the street
Foot prints dressed in red
The wind whispers Mary

A boom is drearily sweeping
Up the broken pieces of yesterday's life
Somewhere a queen is sweeping
Somewhere a king has no wife
And the wind it cries Mary

The traffic lights they turn on blue tomorrow
And shine as if they look down on my bed
The tiny islands down streem
Cause the light that lived is dead
The wind screams Mary

Will the wind ever remember
The names it has blown in the past
And with this crutch its old age and its wisdom
It wisdom knows this will be the last
The wind cries Mary