Send in the Clowns - Tom Jones

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 a 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