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 taring around, one who can't move
Where are the clowns
There ought to be clownsJust 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 thereDon't you love farce, my fault I feel
I thought that you'd want what I want, sorry my dear
Where are the clowns
Send in the clowns, don't bother thereWhat 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 clicheIsn'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
Songwriters
Stephen SondheimPublished by
WB MUSIC CORP.;RILTING MUSIC, INC. Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.