And after all the decks are in the boxes
And the clouds have all gone to bed
You can hear happiness stand phone on down the street
Footprints dressed in red
Yeah, and the wind, it cries, Mary
A broom is drearily sweeping forward
Up to broken pieces of yesterday's life
Somewhere a queen
She's a-weaving in
Somewhere a king has no wife
So in the wind, it cries, Mary
A broom is drearily sweeping forward

So in the wind, it cries, Mary
A broom is drearily sweeping forward
Up to broken pieces of yesterday's life
Somewhere a queen
She's a-weaving in
Emptiness down on my bed
A tiny island, it sags downstream
And the life it had is, yes, dead
So when the wind, it cries, Mary
Mary
We'll come with it for a minibus
The names it has thrown in the past
And what the scotch is so dead
And it's wisdom makes it known
This might be the last
Yeah, the wind, it cries, Mary
Yeah, the wind, it cries, Mary
Yeah, the wind, it cries, Mary
Yeah, the wind, it cries, Mary
Yeah, the wind, it cries, Mary
Yeah, the wind, it cries, Mary