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Arif Mardin
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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
But where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns
Just when I stop opening doors
Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours
Making my entrance again with my usual flair
Sure of my light
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
Quick,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
But where are the clowns?
They ought to be clowns
Well,maybe next year
Writer(s): Stephen Sondheim
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