Take down the rigging,

            roll up the tents,

The circus is leaving town.

Yield to the voice

            of common sense,

It’s time to stop following the clown.

Sure his song is a jaunty one

And it’s fun to be singing that tune.

But after the laughter has faded away,

You’re faced with an hopeless buffoon.

Joyous days are tinged with sad,

Each smile etched with a frown.

Wave goodbye to the man

            in motley clad.

It’s time to stop following the clown.

Winter 1995