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A songagram
by Tony Crafter
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Send in the Clowns (Stephen Sondheim)

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Send in the Clowns
By Stephen Sondheim

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
Making my entrance again with my usual
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.

Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer,
Losing my timing this late
In my career?
And where are the clowns?
There ought to be clowns.
Well, maybe next year.
(The Unfit Intervener)

Once banks were rich,
Now they are poor,
Profits are plunging way down,
"Mayday!" they roar;
"Call PM Brown!"

On his white horse,
Jaunting around,
He keeps on thinking he's great,
Handing out pounds,
At a fine rate,
Meet Lender Brown.

When genuine greed, cost them a lot,
Gordon arrives on a steed with his
bottomless pot,
Like Don Quixote he tilts at too many
Set in his aim,
Set in his will.

Isn't he wet?
Isn't he weird?
The inane, canny Scot with a twitch,
Has made it quite clear,
"My sword is unfurled!
Let me save the world!"
The guy is a clown.

Are we, then, rich?
I feel we are not!
Nay, money's scarce, aye and he's lost the
My my, Cheater Brown
You un-funny clown,
Your country is shot!

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