Turning, turning are the tables here before me   Oh, but you're so lovely   Lovely as you are, I know you'll leave me   High up in a tree, I can't climb down      But I don't mind the trouble, it's a magic view   Starin' at the pavement under you      Burning, burning with the New York lights   I'm turning, turning into me it feels like heaven, heaven      Whoa the hum of silence never seemed so far   But Lord it's quiet in my heart   And I don't even miss a single blade of grass   Paper trails, no fingernails and frozen eyes I never wanna close      I would be a fool to miss this magic view   Starin' at the ceiling next to you