isn’t it rich
are we a pair
me here at last on the ground
you in midair
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
send in the 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
and 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
and where are the clowns
there ought to be clowns
well maybe next year
Artist: Judy Collins
Year: 1975
Decade: 70s
Language: en
Word Count: 60