New Hampshire, USA
I wanted to write a funny, to bring a smile or two,
About a man with rubber knees, a clown with face of blue.
Who brought his brand of humor, to kids around the town,
Who made them laugh, squeal with delight, to see the man fall down.
With floppy shoes and baggy pants, a mophead for his hair,
Who squeezed into a tiny car, who balanced on a chair.
A man whose heart was filled with love, for every girl and boy,
Who brought them more than candy canes, a man who brought them joy.
I never wrote of clowns before, I never thought them funny,
But I never smiled till I was nine, my life was less than sunny.
But it matters not what I may feel, itís kids who count the most,
So when they come to visit me, Iíll be the perfect host.
Iíll don the clothes and paint my face, and put on floppy shoes,
Iíll run around, and Iíll fall down, and help them chase the blues.
Iíll make them laugh, Iíll make them smile, Iíll fill their hearts with glee,
For children need to laugh a lot, or theyíll be clowns like me.
For inside of every clown, you see, thereís someone filled with fear,
That someday when the greasepaintís gone, someone will see the tear.
The tiny tear, we all paint on, in clownface as we hide,
So no one knows the hurt we feel, buried deep inside.
Clowns are a funny lot, we are, we have a job to do,
We HAVE to make you love us, even if our face is blue.
But blue it is, or red or green, weíll play our funny part,
So no one will suspect that clowns, just hide a broken heart.
So next time that you see a clown, look behind the face,
And know that while he makes you laugh, heís in another place.
Heís gone to that great circus, where every face is blue,
Where everyone wears baggy pants, and every heart is true.