|
Round, like a circle in a spiral |
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Like a wheel within a wheel. |
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Never ending or beginning, |
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On an ever spinning reel |
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Like a snowball down a mountain |
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Or a carnival balloon |
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Like a carousel that's turning |
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Running rings around the moon |
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Like a clock whose hands are sweeping |
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Past the minutes on it's face |
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And the world is like an apple |
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Whirling silently in space |
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Like the circles that you find |
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In the windmills of your mind |
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Like a tunnel that you follow |
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To a tunnel of it's own |
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Down a hollow to a cavern |
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Where the sun has never shone |
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Like a door that keeps revolving |
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In a half forgotten dream |
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Or the ripples from a pebble |
|
Someone tosses in a stream. |
|
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping |
|
Past the minutes on it's face |
|
And the world is like an apple |
|
Whirling silently in space |
|
Like the circles that you find |
|
In the windmills of your mind |
|
Keys that jingle in your pocket |
|
Words that jangle in your head |
|
Why did summer go so quickly |
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Was it something that you said |
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Lovers walking along the shore, |
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Leave their footprints in the sand |
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Was the sound of distant drumming |
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Just the fingers of your hand |
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Pictures hanging in a hallway |
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And a fragment of this song |
|
Half remembered names and faces |
|
But to whom do they belong |
|
When you knew that it was over |
|
Were you suddenly aware |
|
That the autumn leaves were turning |
|
To the color of her hair |
|
Like a circle in a spiral |
|
Like a wheel within a wheel |
|
Never ending or beginning, |
|
On an ever spinning reel |
|
As the images unwind |
|
Like the circles that you find |
|
In the windmills of your mind |
|
Pictures hanging in a hallway |
|
And the fragment of this song |
|
Half remembered names and faces |
|
But to whom do they belong |
|
When you knew that it was over |
|
Were you suddenly aware |
|
That the autumn leaves were turning |
|
To the color of her hair |
|
Like a circle in a spiral |
|
Like a wheel within a wheel |
|
Never ending or beginning, |
|
On an ever spinning reel |
|
As the images unwind |
|
Like the circles that you find |
|
In the windmills of your mind |
