Angry Clowns

The clowns are angry today.
The clowns are mad as hell.
The clowns have made up their minds,
they are taking it to the streets.

All their lives forced to crowd into tiny cars,
whacked on the head with huge mallets,
in the face with pies,
on the butt with paddles.

The clowns are angry today.
They hate that itchy make-up.
They loathe those big, floppy shoes,
and they are tired, good and tired,
of those red, honking noses.

People laugh at them,
never with them.
The clowns fall down,
mop the floor,
walk tiny dogs in
tiny ballerina outfits.
They have had enough.
They have been making plans.

Angry clowns! Angry Clowns!
Who can stop the angry clowns?
Out of the circus, into the town,
here come barrel rolling clowns.

People are pulled from their cars,
their hair is dyed bright red,
they are left crammed into
baby carriages.
Zoos are liberated,
bakeries ransacked,
all the cream pies stolen.
Clowns fill the streets
howling with rage,
seltzer bottles spewing.
Ice cream trucks careen madly
through the malls,
tiny clowns at the wheels,
chasing well dressed shoppers.

Angry clowns! Angry clowns!
Who can stop the angry clowns?
Out of the circus, into the town,
here come the barrel rolling clowns.

The mayor is found in a trash can,
head shaved, wearing a dress.
His bottom has been paddled,
lipstick smeared on his lips.
Clown Law has been declared!
The banks have been shut down.
Everyone must now wear baggy pants
with suspenders.
The National Guard have all been found
to be closet clowns and are squirting
civilians in the street with carnations.

Angry clowns! Angry clowns!
There is no escape from the angry clowns!
Out of the circus, into the town.
Here come the barrel rolling clowns.

I see you are putting on your make-up,
adjusting your bright, red wig.
The angry clowns are knocking at your door.
Those floppy shoes won't fit.
Your dog won't wear his tiny tu tu.
I wouldn't answer the door if I were you;
The angry clowns can't be fooled.