And it's ten to twelve, close the door

Don't let them in, I won't see any more

Of the boys

I don't like the noise

Could be, it's me

Did you see their eyes?

Hear their sighs

Pleading for more at the last curtain call

I could weep, I'm ready for sleep

Could be, it's me

My dressing room strewn

With costumes and flowers

Admirers and friends who've waited for hours

Telegrams, cards and casual hallos

Don't like what I see in my mirror

Did my make-up run, was it overdone?

Under the lights

Had no time to bе frightened or scared

But nobody carеd

But me, just me

Don't like what I see in my mirror

And it's ten to twelve, close the door

Don't let them in, I won't see any more

Of the boys

I don't like the noise

Could be, it's me