Sick of begging
Sick of trying to please
Sick of the struggle
Sick of your fake id
If I ever feel your scent again
you're one fist to close
If I ever see your shadow again
you're going down the hard way
They call me the comedy clown
They feed me waste in the gutter
They call me the comedy clown
I am waste in the gutter
If I ever see you again
I'll be close to my grave
If I ever lie to you again
I'll be dirt
Sick of trying to please
Sick of the struggle
Sick of your fake id
If I ever feel your scent again
you're one fist to close
If I ever see your shadow again
you're going down the hard way
They call me the comedy clown
They feed me waste in the gutter
They call me the comedy clown
I am waste in the gutter
If I ever see you again
I'll be close to my grave
If I ever lie to you again
I'll be dirt
Lyrics submitted by enragedpiranah
"Circus" as written by Louis Alter Bob Russell
Lyrics © THE SONGWRITERS GUILD OF AMERICA
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
Add your thoughts
Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.
Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!
they like his comedy, but they dont respect him, and at the end he feels like 'waste in the gutter' himself.
but now he is sick and tired...