Send in the Clowns, Dick Turpin
Feast of Fools Frans Floris the Elder (c.1517-1570) Photo Credit: Shakespeare Birthplace Trust [CC BY-NC-ND] Isn't it rich? Aren't 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. But 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 was 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, oh oh oh. Isn't it rich? Isn't it queer? Loosing my timing, this late in my career. And where are the clowns? There ought to be clowns. Well, maybe next year. Well, maybe next year. Well, maybe next year. (Stephen Sondheim) Anthem of two females (married to two football...