The Wind Cries Maryv15

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#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #

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From: [email protected] (Glen Macon)

055

Title: THE WIND CRIES MARY (J. Hendrix)

1967

1

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

Footsteps dressed in red

And the wind whispers Mary

Up the broken peices of yesterday's life

Somewhere a queen is weeping

Somewhere a king has no wife

And the wind cries Mary

The traffic lights turn blue tomorrow

And shine the emptyness down on my bed

The tiny island sags downstream

Cause the life that lived is dead

And the wind screams Mary

Will the wind ever remember

The names it has blown in the past

With its crutch, its old age, and its wisdom

It whispers no, this will be the last

And the wind cries Mary

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___ _ _ Glen Macon

_ __ __ any-net: [email protected]

_ _ __ _ Standard disclaimer...

_ ___ _ _ _ Commodore doesn't endorse what I say, I do

_ _ _ _ Who wants to know...

_ _ _ _

___ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain.