The circus is back in town here comes my favorite clown again I love it when he strips his smile puts it in a tidy pile of shame And then my ol' favorite clown paints on his faithful frown and plays that old familiar game of which i have no name but "Death"
We go marching through these scorching times our lungs are filled with dirt but no amount of hurt will stop us trying We go marching through these parching times rain will come again and just like distant friend we'll both be crying
Oh that sweet awful sound of my ol' favorite clown in need i help him once again to get back on his hands and knees
