[Intro]  

                        (repeat once)
                

                [Verse]

              
              

          
  After all th

             
e jacks are in

       
 their boxes
              
              

            
  And the clow

           
ns have all go

      
ne to bed
              
              

            
  You can hear

           
 happiness sta

           
ggering on dow

n the street
              
              

           
  Footsteps dr

           
essed in red
              
              

           
  And the wind

                
 whispers Mary


              
              

         
  A broom is d

        
rearily sweepi

ng
              
              

            
  Up the broke

           
n pieces of ye

          
sterday's life
              
              

          
  Somewhere a 

        
queen is weepi

ng
              
              

            
  Somewhere a 

            
king has no wi

 
fe
              
              

            
  And the wind

            
 cries Mary


                [Solo]

                 You can strum verse chords as a background
 
 
                [Verse]

              
              

            
  The traffic 

           
lights turn bl

     
ue tomorrow
              
              

            
  And shine th

            
e emptiness do

          
wn on my bed
              
              

           
  The tiny isl

#       
and sags downs

tream
              
              

            
  Cause the li

             
fe that lived 

     
is dead
              
              

            
  And the wind

              
 screams Mary


              
              

          
  Will the win

       
d ever remembe

r
              
              

            
  The names it

           
 has blown in 

    
the past
              
              

            
  With its cru

           
tch, its old a

            
ge, and its wi

sdom
              
              

            
  It whispers 

            
no, this will 

        
be the last
              
              

          
  And the wind

              
 cries Mary
                                
                
               [Outro]