(Jimi Hendrix) 


After all the Jacks are in their boxes 

And the clowns have all gone to bed 

You can hear happiness staggering on downstream 

Footprints dressed in red 

And the wind 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 say turn blue tomorrow 

And shine the emptiness down on my bed 

The tiny island sags downsteam 

'Cause the life that lived there is dead 

And the wind wind screams 

Mary 


Will the wind ever remember 

The names it has blown in the past 

And with it's crutch, it's old age and it's wisdom 

But Jimi whispers: "No this will be the last!" 

And the wind wind cries 

Mary