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the windmills of your mind |
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-nana mouskouri |
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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 wheel |
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like a snowball down a mountain |
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or a carnaval balloon |
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like a carousell 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 |
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someone tosses in a stream. |
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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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keys that jingle in your pocket |
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words that jangle your head |
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why did summer go so quickly |
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was it something that i said |
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lovers walking allong 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 |
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half remembered names and faces |
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but to whom do they belong |
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when you knew that it was over |
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in the autumn of goodbyes |
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for a moment you could not recall ! |
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the color of his eyes |
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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 wheel |
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as the images unwind |
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like the circle that you find |
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in the windmills of your mind |
