After all the Jacks are in there boxes
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and the CLOWNS HAVE ALL gone to bed
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you can hear happiness STAGGERING on down the street
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footprints dressed in red
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and the wind whispers Mary
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A broom is drearly sweeping
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of the broken pieces of yesterdays life
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Somewhere a queen is weeping
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somewhere a king has no wife
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and the wind it cries Mary
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THE TRAFFIC lights they a turn blue tomorrow
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and shine the emptiness down on my bed
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the tiny island sags down the street
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cause the life that lives is dead
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and the wind screams Mary.
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Will the wind every remember
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the names it has blown in the past
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and with this crush its old age and its wisdom
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it whisper no this will be the last
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and the wind cries Mary.
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Mary
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Jimi Hendrix |