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.
    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'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
    There ought to be clowns
    Quick send in the clowns

    What a surprise!
    Who could foresee
    I'd 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
    And where are the clowns
    Quick send in the clowns
    Don't bother, they're here.


    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words