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The Wind Cries Mary

And after all the Jacks are in their boxes,
And the clowns have all gone to bed.
You can hear the happiness staggering on downstream,
Footprints dressed in red.

And the wind whispers Mary.

A broom is drearily sweeping,
Up the broken peices of yesterday's life.
Somewhere a Queens is weepin',
Somewhere a King has no wife.

And the wind cries Mary.

Mary.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

The traffic lights they turn blue tommorow,
And shine their emptiness down on my bed,
Their tiny island sags on downstream,
'Cause the life that lived is dead.

And the wind screams Mary.

Now will that wind ever remember,
All those names it has blown in the past.
Now with its crutch, its old age and its wisdom,
It whispers "No, this will be the last".

And the wind screams Mary.

Mary.

Mary
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Opinion #1 - anonimo: opina:
"The Wind Cries Mary" está lleno de imágenes psicodinámicas de fines de los años 60. La letra no tiene mucho sentido pero acompañado de la nostalgia de Hendrix llega al corazón de quienes la escuchan y son capaces de sentirse conmovido

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