.: 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 yesterday’s life
Somewhere a queen is weeping
Somewhere a king has no wife
And the wind, it cries Mary

The traffic lights they turn up blue tomorrow
And shine their emptiness down on my bed
The tiny island sags downstream
‘Cause the life that lived is, is dead
And the wind screams Mary

Will the wind ever remember
The names it has blown in the past
And with his crutch, it’s old age, and it's wisdom
It whispers no, this will be the last
And the wind cries Mary

The crowd in attendance was an excellent one, no doubt. However, the size of the crowd didn't truly matter to Nigel and Aurora. Whether they played for two hundred or two dozen, nothing would have stopped these two from pouring their all into this performance. Very well executed, indeed, they met an exceptional amount of applause and fanfare as they concluded...
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((Did this for a contest held by [link] ))