Send In the Clowns

Isn't it rich,
aren't we a pair.
Me all alone on the ground,
you in mid-air.
Isn't it bliss,
don't you approve.
One who keeps tearing around,
one who can't move.
Just when I stopped opening doors,
realizing what I wanted was yours.
Don't you like farce,
my fault I fear.
I thought you wanted
what I wanted, sorry my dear.
Making my entrance with unusual flair,
sure of my lines but no-bodies there.
Isn't it rich, isn't it queer,
losing my timing this late in my career.
Send in the clowns,
yes send in the clowns
well maybe next year