Send in the Clowns
Is-n't it rich? Are we a pair?
Me here at last on the ground,
you in mid - air...
Send in the clowns.
Is-n't it bliss? Don't you ap-prove?
One who keeps tear-ing a-round,
one who can't move....
Where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns.
Just when I'd stopped op-en-ing doors,
Fin-al-ly know-ing the one that I want-ed was yours,
Mak-ing my en-trance a-gain with my u-su-al flair,
Sure of my lines, No one is there.
Don't you love farce? My fault, I fear.
I thought that you'd want what I want.
Sor - ry, my dear.
But where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns.
Don't both-er, they're here.
Is-n't it rich? Is-n't it queer,
Los-ing my tim-ing this late
in my ca -reer?
And where are the clowns?
There ought to be clowns.
Well, may-be next year...