| Lyrics |
And what costume shall the poor girl wearto all tomorrows parties?A hand-me-down dress from who knows whereto all tomorrows parties.
And where will she go and what shall she dowhen midnight comes around?
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clownand cry behind the door.
And what costume shall the poor girl wearto all tomorrows parties?
Why silks and linens of yesterdays gownsto all tomorrows parties?
And what will she do with Thursday's ragswhen Monday comes around?
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clownand cry behind the door.
And what costume shall the poor girl wearto all tomorrows parties?
For Thursday's child is Sunday's clownfor whom no will go mourning.A blackened shroud, a hand-me-down gownof rags and silks, a costume.
Fits for one who sits and cries,for all tomorrows parties.
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