Posted by Ted (152.163.207.49) on December 19, 1999 at 23:50:36:
From: The Wind Cries Mary
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 yesterdays life.
Somewhere a queen is weeping.
Somewhere a king has no wife.
And the wind, it cries Mary.