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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
[Verse 1]
What goes up must come down
Spinnin’ wheel got to go ‘round
Talkin’ ‘bout your troubles it’s a cryin’ sin
Ride a painted pony let the spinnin’ wheel spin
[Verse 2]
You got no money and you got no home
Spinnin’ wheel all alone
Talkin’ ‘bout your troubles and you never learn
Ride a painted pony let the spinnin’ wheel turn
I’m so dizzy my head is spinning
Like a whirlpool, it never ends
And it’s you, girl, making it spin
You’re making me dizzy
I was afraid this would happen.
Jim Croce finally figured out how to save time in a bottle.