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Isn't it rich? |
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Are we a pair? |
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Me here at last on the ground |
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You in mid-air. |
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Where are the clowns? |
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Isn't it bliss? |
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Don't you approve? |
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One who keeps tearing around |
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One who can't move. |
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Where are the clowns? |
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Send in the clowns. |
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Just when I stopped opening doors |
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Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours |
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Making my entrance again |
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With my usual flair |
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Sure of my lines |
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No one is there. |
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Don't you love farce? |
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My fault, I fear |
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I thought that you'd want what I want |
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Sorry, my dear. |
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But, where are the clowns? |
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Send in the clowns. |
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Don't bother they're here. |
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Isn't it rich? |
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Isn't it queer? |
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Losing my timing this late in my career |
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But where are the clowns? |
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There ought to be clowns |
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Well, maybe next year. |
