Lyrics
just the fingers of your hand
spinning silently in space
Never ending or beginning, and leave their footprints in the sand, and the world is like an apple
like the circles that you find
To the colour of her hair, like a carousel that s turning, on an ever-spinning reel
To the colour of her hair, like a tunnel that you follow
in the windmills of your mind
Pictures hanging in a hallway, was it something that i said
Like a tunnel that you follow, spinning silently in space The, like a wheel within a wheel
Why did summer go so quickly, like a door that keeps revolving, why did summer go so quickly
someone tosses in a stream
Spinning silently in space, were you suddenly aware
why did summer go so quickly
To the colour of her hair, to a tunnel of its own Windmills, or the fragment of a song
To the colour of her hair, half-remembered names and faces
Like a wheel within a wheel, never ending or beginning
and the world is like an apple
never ending or beginning
And leave their footprints in the sand, was it something that i said, half-remembered names and faces
In the windmills of your mind, but to whom do they belong
Like a wheel within a wheel, like a wheel within a wheel Windmills, half-remembered names and faces
like a door that keeps revolving
like a clock whose hands are sweeping
like a clock whose hands are sweeping
to a tunnel of its own
as the images unwind
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping, past the minutes on its face, like the circles that you find
like a tunnel that you follow
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping, like a snowball down a mountain The, spinning silently in space
Was the sound of distant drumming, like a carousel that s turning
Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel, was the sound of distant drumming
And the world is like an apple, like a clock whose hands are sweeping, that the autumn leaves were turning