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Who wears these clothes? And in that size? I mean who has the cash or the dash or the thighs To buy such a gown? Suppose that you dare it Suppose you look fair. Okay, where do you where it? The flesh it bares. And what if it tears? Who wears these clothes? Who looks like that? It’s more than clothes. It’s the straight little nose, the complexion that glows And the air of repose that goes with the clothes And where do you go for those? How do you look like that? Listen to me, I’m a total wreck, ‘cause I see this drek all week I’m media wise and look fine for my size And my clothes are all passively chic I jog and I swim and I go to the gym And I watch every morsel and meal And I look at these girls and I feel like a hunchback. To look that that, to live that role, To be seen in that hat looking that in control To dress like a dream and to seem to supremely in charge. I could play the swan, but the world would scoff ‘cause you don’t put on what you can’t pull off. Who wears these clothes? And where do you find them in large?
Don't you just love me in pink? Would you please? Maybe a flower for my hair. No. No. Yes! No. Violet? No atar of roses, I think. Look, you've brought me chocolates! Oh no, I don't dare. Do you hate these earrings? Now, the truth; Don't be kind I don't mind, Because I hate them too. No, no, no, don't squeeze. Monty, you're a tease. Oh, Monty, look my shoe! I don't know what I'd do without you! I have never met another man who's half as dear as you. You're so clever too, and you make me laugh more than anybody Why are other men so dreary, Monty and so deadly dull? No one holds a conversation half as beautifully as you! You haven't said a word about my dress! You're a brute! See how it moves when I turn? Two-three-one-two. It's a bit much for Clapham, but nevertheless, Maybe just a bite. Just to be polite Monty, that's too tight. Monty, that's just right. Oh, what I put you through! I don't know what I'd do. I do not have a clue, I don't know what I'd do without you! Don't you just love me in pink?
I'll be wearing ribbons down my back this summer. Blue and green and streaming in the yellow sky. So if someone special comes my way, this summer, He might notice me passing by And so I'll try to make it easier to find me In the stillness of July, Because a breeze might stir a rainbow up behind me That might happen to catch a gentleman's eye. And he might smile and take me by the hand, this summer Making me recall of how lovely love can be. And so I will proudly wear ribbons down my back Shining in my hair, that he might notice me.
Ah! je ris de me voir si belle en ce miroir, Ah! je ris de me voir si belle en ce miroir, Est-ce toi, Marguerite, est-ce toi? Réponds-moi, réponds-moi, Réponds, réponds, réponds vite! Non! Non! ce n’est plus toi! Non...non, ce n’est plus ton visage; C’est la fille d’un roi; Ce n’est plus toi, Qu’on salut au passage! Ah s’il était ici! S’il me voyait ainsi! Comme une demoiselle Il me trouverait belle, Ah! Comme une demoiselle, Il me trouverait belle! Achevons la métamorphose, Il me tarde encor d’essayer Le bracelet it le collier! Dieu! c’est comme une main, Qui sur mon bras se pose! ah! ah! Ah! je ris de me voir si belle dans ce miroir! Ah, I laugh to see myself so beautiful in this mirror, Ah, I laugh to see myself so beautiful in this mirror, Is it you, Marguerite, it is you? Answer me, answer me, Respond, respond, respond quickly! No No! it’s no longer you! No...no, it’s no longer your face; It’s the daughter of a king, It’s no longer you, etc. One must bow to her as she passes! Ah if only he were here! If he should see me thus Like a lady He would find me so beautiful, Ah! Like a lady, He would find me beautiful! Let’s complete the metamorphosis, I am late yet in trying on The bracelet and the necklace! God! it’s like a hand Which is placed on my arm! Ah, ah! Ah, I laugh to see myself so beautiful in this mirror!
Father has a business, strictly second-hand Everything from toothpicks to a baby grand Stuff in our apartment came from Father's store Even things I'm wearing, someone wore before It's no wonder that I feel abused I never get a thing that ain't been used I'm wearing second-hand hats, second-hand clothes That's why the call me Second Hand Rose Even our piano in the parlor Father bought for ten cents on the dollar Second-hand pearls I'm wearing second-hand curls I never get a single thing that's new Even Jake the plumber, he's the man I adore Had the nerve to tell me he'd been married before Everyone knows that I'm just Second Hand Rose From Second Avenue I'm wearing second-hand shoes, second-hand hose All the girls hand me their second-hand beaus Even my pajamas, when I don them Have somebody else's 'nitials on them Second-hand rings I'm sick of second-hand things I never get what other girlies do Once while strolling through the Ritz, a woman got my goat She nudged her friend and said, "Oh, look, there goes my last year's coat!" Everyone knows that I'm just Second Hand Rose From Second Avenue
The French are glad to die for love, They delight in fighting duels. But I prefer a man who lives, And gives expensive jewels. A kiss on the hand may be quite continental, But diamonds are a girl's best friend A kiss may be grand, but it won't pay the rental On your humble flat, or help you at the automat. Men grow cold as girls grow old, And we all lose our charms in the end. But square-cut or pear-shaped, These rocks don't lose their shape. Diamonds are a girl's best friend. There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer. But diamonds are a girl's best friend. There may come a time when a hard-boiled employer Thinks you're awful nice. But get that ice or else no dice. He's your guy when stocks are high. But beware when they start to descend It's then that those louses go back to their spouses Diamonds are a girl's best friend I've heard of affairs that are strictly platonic But diamonds are a girl's best friend And I think affairs that you must keep masonic are better bets. When little pets get big baguettes Time rolls on and youth is gone, And you can't straighten up when you bend. But stiff back or stiff knees. You stand straight at Tiffany's Diamonds are a girl’s best - I don't mean rhinestones - But Diamonds, Are A Girl's Best Friend!
Glitter and be gay, that's the part I play; Here I am in Paris, France, Forced to bend my soul to a sordid role, Victimized by bitter, bitter circumstance. Alas for me! Had I remained beside my lady mother, My virtue had remained unstained Until my maiden hand was gained By some Grand Duke or other. Ah, 'twas not to be; harsh necessity Brought me to this gilded cage. Born to higher things, here I droop my wings, Ah! Singing of a sorrow nothing can assuage. And yet of course I rather like to revel. Ha ha! I have no strong objection to champagne. Ha ha! My wardrobe is expensive as the devil. Ha ha! Perhaps it is ignoble to complain… Enough, enough of being basely tearful! I'll show my noble stuff by being bright and cheerful! Ha ha ha ha ha! Ha! Pearls and ruby rings... Ah, how can worldly things take the place of honor lost? Can they compensate for my fallen state, Purchased as they were at such an awful cost? Bracelets...lavaliers, can they dry my tears? Can they blind my eyes to shame? Can the brightest brooch shield me from reproach? Can the purest diamond purify my name? And yet of course these trinkets are endearing. Ha ha! I'm oh, so glad my sapphire is a star. Ha ha! I rather like a twenty-carat earring. Ha ha! If I'm not pure, at least my jewels are! Enough! Enough! I'll take their diamond necklace and show my noble stuff By being gay and reckless! Ha ha ha ha ha! Ha! Observe how bravely I conceal The dreadful, dreadful shame I feel. Ha ha ha ha!
Hair cut - simply terrible. Neck tie - the worst. Bearing - just unbearable. What to tackle first? Still, you've got possibilities, though you're horribly square. You’ve got possibilities; underneath there's something there. Collar - pure Peoria. That hat - oh no! I'm not Queen Victoria - This suit has to go. Still, you've got possibilities. Let us give it a try. I see possibilities. Maybe more than meets the eye! Don't back away. Come on, unbend. Why can't I be your little friend? Baby, you're improvable. It won't take long. Mountains can be moveable if the spirit's strong. You've got possibilities. Takes a woman to tell. I see possibilities. Let me pry you from your shell. You won't be shy when I get through. Come on and roar, you, tiger, you! Somewhere, way down deep in you there's life, no doubt. It's just been asleep in you. Let me bring it out. You've got possibilities, maybe even a lot. Red hot possibilities - Why be shy and ill at ease? I see possibilities, you don't even know you've got.
In life, one has to face a huge assortment Of nauseating fads and good advice. There's health, and fitness, diet, and deportment And other pointless forms of sacrifice. Conversation? Wit? I am a doubter. Manners? Charm? They're no way to impress. So forget the inner me, observe the outer. I am what I wear and how I dress. Oh, now I believe in looking Like my time on earth is cooking Whether polka dotted, striped or even checked. With some glamour guaranteeing Every fiber on of my being Is displayed to quite remarkable effect. From your cradle via trousseau To your deathbed you're on view, so Never compromise, accept no substitute I would rather wear a barrel, Than conservative apparel. For dress has always been...my strongest suit. Staying in or hitting town-wards From the top and working downwards I ensure that every stitch is stitched in time. Whether wig or hat or turban, Whether clad boudoir or urban, Not to strut your stuff outrageously is a crime. And the few who are invited To my wardrobe are delighted, As they wander through my things To find en route, That in negligee or formal I am anything but normal. And dress has always been my strongest suit. I am what I wear I said anytime… Anywhere So bring me all my finest Most audacious, my divinest Most revealing, most expensive and to boot Most arresting, most heartstopping Most free-flowing, most eye-popping Dress has always been my strongest suit! You know that I am what I wear Dress has always been my strongest My strongest, my strongest suit!
Did you see my party dress? This morning I was feeling dressy. Mother thinks I’ll get it messy, But you cannot see where I have spilled. I spilled here. And here. And here. And here. Oh no, that was on my other dress. John Michael stole my birthday cake, And Jenna Walker tried to take My Crunch ‘n Munch. It wasn’t fair. I grabbed the punch. I climbed a chair. But then I fell and punch went everywhere. On the floor. On the chair. On his shoes. In her hair. But it wasn’t on my party dress. John Michael once made fun of soccer, So I stuffed him in a locker. I play soccer and I play the flute. I do art, and Discovery Camp, and tumbling, and tee ball, And I play piano every night. My dad says I’m a prodigy, But I think I would rather be The FBI or CIA, A secret spy who saves the day, And when I finish saving it I’ll play Ode to Joy, Injun Joe, Frére Jacques, Allegro, The Pachelbel Canon, And also this song I wrote Ah-La-la-la-la-la It has words: “I’m a spy, and it’s really fun, and I wear a cape, and…” Do you like my party dress? When I do pirouettes it rustles. I buy all my clothes in Brussels. Dad says that’s where Brussels sprouts are from. I’ve toured Brussels, and Paris, and Vienna, and this one time, We pretended to go to Rome, but we went to Iceland. And in Iceland, my dad presided over an International Corporate Trade Hearing… Woops, that was a secret. And we saw the Reykjavik Ballet. My dance class is on Saturday. Miss Laura and Miss Lisa say I’m much more bright than I appear. I chassé right. It’s very clear That I’ll be in The Nutcracker next year As a mouse, then a soldier, then a candy cane, or a marzipan, Then a Russian, or an angel, then a polichinelle. Let me dance to this song, ‘cause I wrote it so well. It goes “ah-ah-ah. I will dance until I play all the parts in the great ballet.” Sing with me! “Ah-ah-ah.” I will do a turn. And another turn. Mother says I’ll quit. I will never quit. I will do a split. And I guess that’s it. Oh and one day when I’m president, My bedtime will be very late, so I have time to legislate The kinds of laws I think are cool. I’ll pass a clause to banish school. And then all of the countries that I rule Will be peaceful, and happy, and comfortable, And satin, and frilly, and pretty, And lacey, and silky, and perfect, and pink Like my pa-ah-ah-ah-ah… My party dress.
I know you, Your name is Sue, But who am I? I've gotta find out. At least I'm gonna try. I'm going back Where I can be me, To the Bonjour Tristesse Brassiere Company. They've got a great big switchboard there Where it's just "hello," "goodbye." It may be dull, but there I can be Just me, myself, and I. A little modeling on the side, Yes, that's where I'll be, At the Bonjour Tristesse Brassiere Company. And if anybody asks for Ella, Mella or Mom, Tell 'em that I'm going back where I came from, To the B.T. Brassiere Company. Goodbye, everybody. Goodbye, Madame Grimaldi. Goodbye, Junior Mallet, Santa Claus is hittin' the road. Listen to your ever-lovin' mama. Eat your spinach, baby, Eat your spinach, baby, by the load. “La Petite Bergere Restaurant, adieu. Je ne reviendrai jamais, jamais, jamais. C'est tout fini. Adieu to yeu.” So, goodbye, Max, to your dogs and your cats, To the Duke of Windsor and his Duchess. Bye bye, Barton and Kitchell and Hastings, At last you're out of my clutches. I'll miss you, but you'll carry on. You'll never know that I've gone. I'm going back Where I can be me, To the Bonjour Tristesse Brassiere Company. And while I'm sittin' there, I hope that I find out Just what Ella Peterson is all about, In that Shangri-La of lacy lingeree. (A little modeling on the side.) At the Bonjour Tristesse Brassiere Company. (Send me my mail there!) To the Bonjour Tristesse Company.
Hey, hobo man, Hey, dapper Dan, You've both got your style, But, brother, you're never fully dressed Without a smile! Your clothes may be beau brummelly They stand out a mile, But, brother, you're never fully dressed Without a smile! Who cares what they're wearing On main street or Saville Row It's what you wear from ear to ear, And not from head to toe, That matters. So, senator, So, janitor, So long for a while. Remember you're Never fully dressed, Though you may wear your best. You're never fully dressed Without a smile!


Jacqueline Novikov, soprano
Yelena Beriyeva, piano


released December 3, 2018




Jacqueline Novikov Boston, Massachusetts

Soprano Jacqueline Novikov, founder of Forma Music, is dedicated to entertaining and educating audiences through classical vocal music. She uses music's powerful language to express life's humorous, serious, mundane and sacred truths. Jacqueline holds a B.M. from the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, NY and a M.M. from Manhattan School of Music in New York City. ... more

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