I don’t have a costume

[Verse 1: Soulful Pop Ballad. Slow piano chords echo through a dimly lit room. The vocal enters softly, with deep vibrato and soulful phrasing. Gentle drums and upright bass enter halfway through, building emotional tension.] I went to every store and every mall I went to Walmart Target I tried 'em all But they don't have a hotdog costume I'm appalled Oh I guess I'm not the only one [Verse 2: Blues-Pop. Electric guitar adds warm, bluesy licks under steady snare brushes. The vocals grow expressive, pulling on each phrase as organ chords swell beneath] So I went online And I ordered one And the shipping said three days But now it's been a month They said "Supply chain issues We don't know where it went" Oh And the party's tonight [Chorus: Gospel Soul. Full gospel harmonies rise behind the lead vocal, organ soaring with a call-and-response choir. Drums lift into a slow groove, the emotion at full boil.] What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? I don't have a costume What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? I don't have a costume [Verse 3: Neo-Soul. Bassline grows smoother, syncopated. A Rhodes keyboard glides beneath silky backing vocals. The singer leans into rhythmic phrasing with quiet frustration.] Well It all started as a joke I was supposed to be a cat And then they said "Oh no" They said "You should be a hotdog That would be dope" Oh And now I really want one [Verse 4: Cinematic Piano Ballad. Strings swell under the piano, a single snare hit punctuating each line. The vocals climb into a passionate cry, echoing like a movie’s emotional peak] 'Cause now I know the perfect song You know that old doo-wop one? Oh Yeah I could put it on And then You know I'd have the perfect entrance Oh But it won't be the same without the costume [Chorus: Gospel Soul / Folk-Soul Fusion. Choir and organ return, joined by acoustic guitar and light percussion. The song blooms into an emotional finale, voices blending in heartfelt harmony.] What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? I don't have a costume What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? I don't have a costume [Outro: Jazz-Pop Noir. Brush drums fade in, upright bass walks softly. A muted trumpet echoes as the singer trails off, whispering into the mic.] (Guess I’ll just go as myself tonight...)