The Windmills Of Your Mind
Ton : EEnglish
Voir version française par Frida Boccara:
http://www.boiteachansons.net/Partitions/Frida-Boccara/Les-moulins-de-mon-coeur.php
Intro: Em
Like a circle in a sEmpiral, like a wheel within a wF#m7(b5)heel,
Never ending or begB7inning on an ever spinning rEmeel,
Like a snowball down a mE7ountain or a carnival ballAm7oon
Like a carousel that's tD7urning running rings around the mGmaj7oon,
Like a clock whose hands are sCmaj7weeping past the minutes of its fF#7(b5)ace,
And the world is like an aB7pple whirling silently in sG7(dim)pace,
Like the circles that you fB7ind in the windmills of your mEmind.
Like a tunnel that you fEmollow to a tunnel of its oF#m7(b5)wn,
Down a hollow to a cB7avern where the sun has never sEmhone,
Like a door that keeps revE7olving in a half-forgotten dAm7ream,
Or the ripples from a pD7ebble someone tosses in a sGmaj7tream,
Like a clock whose hands are sCmaj7weeping past the minutes of its fF#m7(b5)ace,
And the world is like an aB7pple whirling silently in sG7(dim)pace,
Like the circles that you fB7ind in the windmills of your mEmind.
Refrain
Keys that jingle in your pEmocket, words that jangle in your hAm7ead;
Why did summer go so qD7uickly? Was it something that you sGmaj7aid?
Lovers walk along a sG7hore and leave their footprints in the sCmaj7and;
Is the sound of distant dF#7rumming just the fingers of your hBmand?
Pictures hanging in a hE7allway and the fragments of a sAmong,
Half-remembered names and fD7aces, but to whom do they belGmaj7ong?
When you knew that it was oCmaj7ver, were you suddenly awF#m7(b5)are
That the autumn leaves were tB7urning to the color of her hEmair?
Like a circle in a sEmpiral, like a wheel within a wF#m7(b5)heel,
Never ending or begB7inning on an ever spinning rG7(dim)eel,
As the images unwEmind, like the circles that you fB7ind
In the windmills of your mEmind.Em7
Em Em7 Em Em7 (Ad libitum)