Where have all the good clowns gone?
And where are all the mimes?
Where’s the streetwise Harlequin to juggle these trying times?
Isn’t there a jokester inside a tiny car?
Late at night I toss and turn and I wonder where you areI’m holding out for a Bozo ‘til the end of the night
He’s gotta make jokes, entertain all the folks, and never cause no one a fright
I need a Bozo
I’m holding out for a Bozo with a big bow tie
And party balloons and a big pair of shoes and a good throwing arm with a pieSomewhere after midnight, at the circus of my dreams
Somewhere out beyond the crowd, there’s someone making jokes at me
Racing on a small trike, flying by on a trapeze
It’s gonna take a funnyman to put my mind at easeI NEED A BOZO
Up where the tent-poles meet the canvas above
Out where the strongman lifts the tree
I could swear there is someone, somewhere
Pranking meThrough the lions and dancers and stilts
and the smoke and the light
I can hear his nose honk like a horn in the night