Album: The Best of José Feliciano

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 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
Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of its own,
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shown,
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half-forgotten dream,
Or the ripples from a 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 jingle in your pocket,
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 footprints 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 it was over
In the autumn of goodbyes,
For a moment, you could not recall
The color of his eyes
INSTRUMENTAL INTERLUDE
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

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