Me here at last on the ground, you in midair?
 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? 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?
 Where are the clowns?  There ought to be clowns.
 Well, maybe next year