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After all the taxin(?) and boxes
And the clouds have all gone to bed
You can hear heaven is staggering(?) down the street
Footprints dressed in red
And the wind it screams Mary
A boom is throughly sweeping
The broken pieces of yesterday's life
Somewhere a queen is weeping
And somewhere a king has no wife
And the wind it whispers Mary
The traffic light say to turn on blue tomorrow
And shine emptiness down on my bed
A tiny island sinks(?) down the street
Cuz the life it lives is dead
And the wind it screams Mary
And the wind it cries Mary
Will the wind ever remember
The names it has blown in the past
With it's precious(?) old age and wisdom
It whispers "No, this won't be the last"
Oh and the wind cries Mary
Oh and the wind cries Mary
Mary
Mary
And the clouds have all gone to bed
You can hear heaven is staggering(?) down the street
Footprints dressed in red
And the wind it screams Mary
A boom is throughly sweeping
The broken pieces of yesterday's life
Somewhere a queen is weeping
And somewhere a king has no wife
And the wind it whispers Mary
The traffic light say to turn on blue tomorrow
And shine emptiness down on my bed
A tiny island sinks(?) down the street
Cuz the life it lives is dead
And the wind it screams Mary
And the wind it cries Mary
Will the wind ever remember
The names it has blown in the past
With it's precious(?) old age and wisdom
It whispers "No, this won't be the last"
Oh and the wind cries Mary
Oh and the wind cries Mary
Mary
Mary
Lyrics submitted by IConfesToMyDashboard
Track duration: 03:36
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Like John Frusciante, also a great fan of Hendrix'.
Somewhere there's a thin line to the 'white noise' that's added to the music.
Music must never ever sound clinical. And that is what newer versions by vaughan and mayer are. more clinical. less soul. am i close?
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
Footprints dressed in red
And the wind whispers Mary
A broom is drearily sweeping
Up the broken pieces 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 emptiness down on my bed
The tiny island sags downstream
'Cause the life that they 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