Isn't it rich?
Are we a pair (of safe hands)?
Me here at last on the ground
The ball in mid-air
Send in the clowns
Isn't it pish?
The fans don't approve
One who keeps tearing around
One who can't move
Where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns
I can't seem to stop
Flapping at balls
Constantly making defenders feel like they're
Climbing up walls
Making the fans scared
Coming miles off my line
No one is there
Don't you love farce?
My fault, I fear
I thought that you'd want another Taibi
Sorry, my dear
But where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns
Don't bother I'm here
Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer?
Losing my timing this late
In my career
But where are the clowns?
There ought to be clowns
Well, I'll still be here next year...