Send In The Clowns
(originally by Stephen Sondheim)
Isn't it riche?
Are we a pare?
Me here at last on the ground
You in me there
Send in the clowns
Isn't it bliss?
Don't you approve?
One who keeps tearing around?
One who can't move?
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 fuss?
My fault I fear
I thought that you'd want what I want
Sorry my dear
But where are the clowns
Quick send in the clowns
Don't bother there here
Isn't it riche?
Isn't it quirt?
Losing my timing this late
In my career
And where are the clowns
There are to be clowns
Well maybe next year
