[ Send In The Clowns ]

(Stephen Sondheim) 

Isn't it rich? 
Are we a pair? 
Me here at last on the ground
You in mid-air
Where are the clowns? 

Isn't it bliss? 
Don't you approve? 
One who keeps tearing around
One who can't move
Where are the clowns? 
There ought to be clowns

Just when I'd 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 farce? 
My fault, I fear
I thought that you'd want what I want 
Sorry, my dear
Where are the clowns? 
Send in the clowns
Don't bother, they're here

What a surprise! 
Who could foresee?
I've come to feel about you what you felt about me
Why only now, when I see that you've drifted away?
What a surprise, what a cliche

Isn't it rich? 
Isn't it queer? 
Losing my timing this late 
In my career? 
Where are the clowns? 
There ought to be clowns
Well, maybe next year