The Wind Cries Mary

(Album: In A Metal Mood: No More Mr. Nice Guy - 1997)

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

Her 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 blue tomorrow
And shine their emptiness down on my bed
The tiny island sags on downstream
Cause the life they lived is dead

And the wind screams Mary

Will the wind ever remember
The names it has blown in the past?
And with its crutch, its old age, and its wisdom
It whispers no, this will be the last

And the wind cries Mary