send in the clowns

Send In The Clowns

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 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.
And 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 . .
.
by Stephen Sondheim
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.
.

The 'great lights', as the Sun and Moon are described in Genesis make a matched pair. For although the Moon measures only one four-hundredth the Sun's million mile diameter, it nevertheless lies four hundred times closer to Earth. This uncanny coincidence of size and distance enables the puny moon to block out the Sun whenever the two bodies converge on their shared path across Earth's sky.

Dava Sobel in The Planets

.

...and i can feel it in the air

it's better with you around

and i can feel it getting better

Captain, 'Glorious' (from 'This Is Hazelville')