Round like a circle in a spiral like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning on an ever-spinning reel
Like a snowball down a mountain or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes on its face
And the world is like an apple spinning silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Like a tunnel that you follow to a tunnel of its own
Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving in a half-forgotten dream
Like the ripples from a pebble someone tosses in a stream
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes on its face
And the world is like an apple spinning silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

The above lyrics were brought to you by an unspeakably tiring night of sleep.