Cm                            B7
Like a  circle  in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel,
                   B7                           Cm
Never ending or beginning, on an ever spinning reel
                        Cm7                        Ab
Like a snowball down a mountain, or a carnival balloon,
                        B7                                Gm
Like a carousel that's turning, running rings around the moon

                               Cm                               Fm
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping, past the minutes of its face
                         G                           Cm7        
And the world is like an apple, whirling silently in space
                           Csus2                          Cm
Like the circles that you find, in the windmills of your mind

                       Cm                             B7
Like a tunnel that you follow, to  a  tunnel  of  its own,
                    B7                               Cm
Down a hollow to a cavern, where the sun has never shone
                        Cm7             C7              Ab
Like a door that keeps revolving, in a half-forgotten dream,
                        B7                            Gm
Or the ripples from  a pebble, someone tosses in a stream

                               Cm                               Fm
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping, past the minutes of its face
                         G                           Cm7        
And the world is like an apple, whirling silently in space
                           Csus2                          Cm
Like the circles that you find, in the windmills of your mind

           Cm                                               Fm
Keys that jingle in your pocket, words that jangle in your head,
                       B7                                 Cm
Why did summer go so quickly? Was it something that you said?
                       Cm7                    C7                Ab
Lovers walk along the shore, and leave their footprints in the sand,
                          D7                                Gm
Is the sound of distant drumming, just the fingers of your hand?
                      C7               C7            Ab
Pictures hanging in a hallay, and the fragment of a song,
                           B7                           Gm
Half-remembered names and faces, but to whom do they belong?
                          Cm                        B7
When you knew that it was over, you were suddenly aware,
                             B7                            Cm
that the autumn leaves were turning, to the colour of her hair

         Cm                                   Fm
Like a  circle in a spiral, a wheel within a wheel,
                   B7                           Cm7        
Never ending or beginning, on an ever spinning reel
                 Cm                              Gm
As the images unwind, like the circles that you find,
                          Cm
In the windmills of your      mind