| Round, |
| Like a circle in a spiral |
| Like a wheel within a wheel |
| Never ending or beginning |
| On an ever-spinning reel |
| Like a snowball down a mountain |
| Or a carnival balloon |
| Like a carousel that’s burning |
| Running rings around the moon |
| Like a clock whose hands are sweeping |
| Past the minutes of its face |
| And the world is like an apple |
| Rolling silently in space |
| Like the circles that you find |
| In the windmills of your mind |
| Like a tunnel that you follow |
| To a tunnel of its own |
| Down a hollow to a cavern |
| Where the sun has never shone |
| Like a door that keeps revolving |
| In a half-forgotten dream |
| Like the ripples from a pebble |
| Someone tosses in a stream |
| Like a clock whose hands are sweeping |
| Past the minutes of its face |
| And the world is like an apple |
| Rolling 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? |
| Was it something that you said? |
| Lovers walk along the shore |
| Leave their footprints in the sand |
| Is the sound of distant drumming |
| Just the fingers of your hand? |
| Pictures hanging in a hallway |
| Or 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 colour 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 |