Windmills of your mind Dusty Springfield 文质斌斌制作 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 BALOON LIKE A CAROUSEL THAT'S TURNING, RUNNING RINGS AROUND THE MOON LIKE A CLOCK WHOSE HANDS ARE SWEEPING, PAST THE MINUTES OF IT'S FACE AND THE WORLD IS LIKE AN APPLE, WHIRLING SILENTLY IN SPACE LIKE THE CIRCLES THAT YOU FIND, IN THE WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND.
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 FORGOOTEN DREAM OR THE RIPPLE FROM THE PEBBLE SOMEONE TOSSES IN A STREAM LIKE A CLOCK WHOSE HANDS ARE SWEEPING PAST THE MINUTES OF ITS FACE AND THE WORLD IS LIKE AN APPLE WHIRLING SILENTLY IN SPACE LIKE THE CIRCLES THAT YOU FIND, IN THE WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND.
KEYS THAT JUNGLE IN YOUR ROCKET, WORDS THAT JANGLE IN YOUR HEAD. WHY DID SUMMER GO SO QUICKLY? WAS IT SOMETHING THAT YOU SAID? LOVERS WALK ALONG THE SHORE, AND LEAVE THEIR FOOT PRINTS IN THE SAND. IS THE SOUND OF DISTANT DRUMMING, JUST THE FINGERS OF YOUR HAND? PICTURES HANGING IN A HALLWAY, AND THE FRAGMENT OF A SONG HALF REMEMBERED NAMES AND FACES, BUT TO WHOM DO THEY BELONG? WHEN YOU KNEW THAT IS WAS OVER, YOU WERE SUDDENLY AWARE THAT THE AUTUMN LEAVES WERE TURNING TO THE COLOUR OF HIS HAIR. ROUND LIKE A CIRCLE IN A SPIRAL LIKE A WHEEL WITHIN A WHEEL NEVER ENDING OR BEGINNING ON AN EVER SPINNING REEL AS THE IMAGES UNWIND, LIKE THE CIRCLES THAT YOU FIND， IN THE WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND. music ^_^ 斌斌有礼呈现
Windmills of your mind Dusty Springfield 文质斌斌制作 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 BALOON LIKE A CAROUSEL THAT'S TURNING, RUNNING RINGS AROUND THE MOON LIKE A CLOCK WHOSE HANDS ARE SWEEPING, PAST THE MINUTES OF IT'S FACE AND THE WORLD IS LIKE AN APPLE, WHIRLING SILENTLY IN SPACE LIKE THE CIRCLES THAT YOU FIND, IN THE WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND.
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 FORGOOTEN DREAM OR THE RIPPLE FROM THE PEBBLE SOMEONE TOSSES IN A STREAM LIKE A CLOCK WHOSE HANDS ARE SWEEPING PAST THE MINUTES OF ITS FACE AND THE WORLD IS LIKE AN APPLE WHIRLING SILENTLY IN SPACE LIKE THE CIRCLES THAT YOU FIND, IN THE WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND.
KEYS THAT JUNGLE IN YOUR ROCKET, WORDS THAT JANGLE IN YOUR HEAD. WHY DID SUMMER GO SO QUICKLY? WAS IT SOMETHING THAT YOU SAID? LOVERS WALK ALONG THE SHORE, AND LEAVE THEIR FOOT PRINTS IN THE SAND. IS THE SOUND OF DISTANT DRUMMING, JUST THE FINGERS OF YOUR HAND? PICTURES HANGING IN A HALLWAY, AND THE FRAGMENT OF A SONG HALF REMEMBERED NAMES AND FACES, BUT TO WHOM DO THEY BELONG? WHEN YOU KNEW THAT IS WAS OVER, YOU WERE SUDDENLY AWARE THAT THE AUTUMN LEAVES WERE TURNING TO THE COLOUR OF HIS HAIR. ROUND LIKE A CIRCLE IN A SPIRAL LIKE A WHEEL WITHIN A WHEEL NEVER ENDING OR BEGINNING ON AN EVER SPINNING REEL AS THE IMAGES UNWIND, LIKE THE CIRCLES THAT YOU FIND， IN THE WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND. music ^_^ 斌斌有礼呈现
