Jamie Cullum – Wind Cries Mary (Guitar)

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After all the jacks are in their 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 dress in red

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And the wind whispers Mary

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A broom is drearily sweeping

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Up the broken pieces of yesterday's 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 cries Mary

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The traffic lights turn blue tomorrow

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Shine their emptiness down on my bed

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The tiny island that sags downstream

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'Cos the life that they lived is dead

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And the wind screams Mary

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Will the wind ever remember?

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The names it has blown in the past

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With this crutch, it's old age it's wisdom

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It whispers, "No, this will be the last."

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And the wind cries Mary!