Send In the Clowns

Writer(s): Stephen Sondheim

Isn’t it rich, aren’t we a pair, me here at last on the ground – and you in mid-air
Send in the clowns
Isn’t it bliss, don’t you approve, one who keeps tearing around – and one who can’t move
But where are the clowns – send in the clowns
Just when I stopped opening doors, finally finding the one that I wanted – was yours
Making my entrance again with my usual flair, sure of my lines – nobody 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 – send in the clowns, well maybe next year

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