To all tomorrow's parties
A hand-me-down dress from who knows where
To all tomorrow's parties
And where will she go and what shall she do
When midnight comes around
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
And cry behind the door
And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties
Why silks and linens of yesterday's gowns
To all tomorrow's parties
And what will she do with Thursday's rags
When Monday comes around
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
And cry behind the door
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
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 And where will she go and what shall she do When midnight comes around She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown And cry behind the door And what costume shall the poor girl wear To all tomorrow's parties Why silks and linens of yesterday's gowns To all tomorrow's parties And what will she do with Thursday's rags When Monday comes around She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown And cry behind the door 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 Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
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