Текст песни
Down a hollow to a cavern, lovers walk along a shore Elaine, like the circles that you find
in the windmills of your mind
And the world is like an apple, or the fragment of a song, like a wheel within a wheel
Like a circle in a spiral, like the circles that you find Of, keys that jingle in your pocket
half-remembered names and faces
Never ending or beginning, someone tosses in a stream
Like a door that keeps revolving, and the world is like an apple Elaine, just the fingers of your hand
And the world is like an apple, like the ripples from a pebble
Just the fingers of your hand, never ending or beginning, down a hollow to a cavern
Why did summer go so quickly, on an ever-spinning reel
Someone tosses in a stream, and leave their footprints in the sand
when you knew that it was over
keys that jingle in your pocket
like a door that keeps revolving
Like a wheel within a wheel, as the images unwind
in the windmills of your mind
like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Like a circle in a spiral, was the sound of distant drumming, spinning silently in space
Like a door that keeps revolving, like the circles that you find
That the autumn leaves were turning, in the windmills of your mind
but to whom do they belong
and the world is like an apple
like a wheel within a wheel
or the fragment of a song
Words that jangle in your head, on an ever-spinning reel, never ending or beginning
was the sound of distant drumming
Like the circles that you find, in a half-forgotten dream
Pictures hanging in a hallway, like a clock whose hands are sweeping, like a door that keeps revolving
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping, lovers walk along a shore Windmills, words that jangle in your head
Down a hollow to a cavern, on an ever-spinning reel
To a tunnel of its own, half-remembered names and faces Of, in the windmills of your mind
To a tunnel of its own, words that jangle in your head, just the fingers of your hand
keys that jingle in your pocket
Like the ripples from a pebble, like the circles that you find
Were you suddenly aware, like a circle in a spiral
like the circles that you find
Words that jangle in your head, on an ever-spinning reel The, and the world is like an apple
to the colour of her hair
Pictures hanging in a hallway, in the windmills of your mind, when you knew that it was over
Never ending or beginning, and leave their footprints in the sand
like the circles that you find
And leave their footprints in the sand, spinning silently in space