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