“In heaven I will find you.Among the pigeons and scraped bodies. The sky’s spinning round andround. Vultured color. Darkness throbbing. Like a child spun roundand round. It does not stop.”
“And the seasons they go 'round and 'roundAnd the painted ponies go up and downWe're captive on the carousel of timeWe can't return we can only look behindFrom where we cameAnd go round and round and roundIn the circle game.”
“TIMETimegoes round and roundthe spinning clock,until the fateful daytimefolds it's tired handsand stops.”
“Round and round we spin, with feet of lead and wings of tin.”
“The year is round! The wheel of the world must spin! That is why up here they dance the Dark Morris, to balance it. They welcome the winter because of the new summer deep inside it!”
“Fools dwelling in darkness, wise in their own conceit, are puffed up with vain knowledge, go round and round, staggering to and fro, like blind men led by the blind.”