| Like a circle in a spiral or
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| A wheel within a wheel never ending or
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| Beginning on an ever spinning reel
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| Like a snowball on ountain or a carnival balloon or a carousel that’s turning
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| running rings around the moon
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| Like a clock whose hands are
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| Sweeping 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 in the windmills of your mind
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| Like a tunnel that you follow to a tunnel on it’s own
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| Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone
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| Like a door that keeps revolving in a half forgotten dream
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| Or the ripples from a pebble someone tosses in a stream
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| And the world whose hands are
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| Sweeping 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 in the windmills of your mind
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| Keys that jingle in your pocket
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| Words that jangle in your head
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| Why did summer go so quickly?
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| Was it somthing that you said?
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| Lovers walk along the shore line, leave their footprints in the sand
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| Was the sound of distant drumming just the fingers on your hand?
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| Pictures hanging in a hallway and the fragments of a song
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| Half remembered names and faces but to whom do they belong?
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| When you knew that it was over in the autumn of goodbyes
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| For a moment you could not recall the color of his eyes!
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| Like a circle in a spiral or
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| A wheel within a wheel never ending or
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| Beginning on an ever spinning reel
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| As the images unwind like the circles that you find in the windmills of your
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| mind |