All Tomorrow's Parties

[Verse 1] And what costume shall the poor girl wear To all tomorrow's parties? A hand me down dress from who knows where To all tomorrow's parties Where will she go, what shall she do When midnight comes around? She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown And cry behind the door [Verse 2] And what costume shall the poor girl wear To all tomorrow's parties? Why silken trimmings of yesterday's gown To all tomorrow's parties? What shall she do with Thursday's rags When Monday comes around? She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown And cry behind the door [Verse 3] And what costume shall the poor girl wear To all tomorrow's parties? For Thursday's child is Sunday's clown For whom none will go mourning A blackened shroud, a hand me down gown Of rags and silks, a costume Fit for one who sits and cries For all tomorrow's parties