Send In The Clowns

All Angels

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    Is - n't it rich? Aren't we a pair?
    Me here at last on the ground, and you in mid-air --
    Send in the clowns.
    Is - n't it bliss? Don't you approve?
    One who keeps tear - ing around, and one who can't move.
    But where are the clowns? Send in the clowns.
    Just 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 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.
    Is - n't it rich? Is - n't it queer,
    Los - ing my tim - ing this late in my career?
    But where are the clowns? There ought to be clowns...
    Well, maybe next year.

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    Song details

    Composition: Stephen Sondheim

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