90 Miles From Tyranny : And the wind whispers, "Mary."

Friday, September 24, 2021

And the wind whispers, "Mary."

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, uh, 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!"

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