Writer(s): sondheim
Isn’t it rich, aren’t we a pair
Me here at last on the ground – you in mid-air
Send in the clowns
Isn’t it bliss, don’t you approve
One who keeps tearing around – one who can’t move
But where are the clowns – send in the clowns
Just when i stopped opening doors
Finally knowing the one that i wanted – was yours
Making my entrance again with my usual flair
Sure of my lines – no one is there
Don’t you love a farce; my fault i fear
I thought that you’d want what i want – sorry my dear
But where are the clowns – send in the clowns
Don’t bother they’re here
Isn’t it rich, isn’t it queer
Losing my timing this late in my career
But where are the clowns – there are to be clowns
where are the clowns
Well maybe next year