Send In the Clowns

Olivia Newton-John

Compositor: 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
But 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 cliché

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