The windmills of my mind

From the latest comments, I see I'm not the only one with a thing for windmills. Here's a photo of the ones I saw at the Yucatan state fair in November. It's an artless picture but I wanted to get the phone number in case I ever want to get one for aforementioned irrigation system. These are on a much more modest scale than the ones that dominated the skyline in old images of the city.

I can't see them without thinking of that ubiquitous ear worm that won the 1969 Oscar for best song, The Windmills of Your Mind. Not so sure I'd want to sit in the patio watching the windmill blades turning, with these spooky lyrics running through my head:

(from "The Thomas Crown Affair")
Music by Michel Legrand
Lyrics by Alan Bergman and Marilyn Bergman
Round,
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel,
Never ending on 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!
Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle in your head
Why did summer go so quickly?
Was it something that I said?
Lovers walk along a shore
And leave their footprints in the sand
Was the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway
or the fragment of a song,
half-remembered names and faces
but to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair?
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!