Writers: 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