(This is a song about a couple of adult people who have spent,   
    oh, quite a long time together, till one day one of 'em restless
    and decides to leave. Whether it's the man or woman who left
    is unimportant. It's a breakup. It's a lovely mariage of words
    and music, written by Stephen Sondheim.)

Isn't it rich? Are we a pair?
Me here at last on the ground and you in mid-air
Send in the clowns

Isn't it bliss? Don't you approve?
One who keeps tearing around and one who can't move
But where are the clowns? Send in the clowns

Just when I stopped opening doors
Finally finding the one that I wanted was yours
Making my entrance again with my usual flair
Sure of my lines Nobody's there

Don't you love a 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 botherthey're here

Isn't it rich? Isn't it queer?
Losing my timing this late in my career
But where are the clowns? 
Send in the clowns
Well, maybe next year