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 she gonna do
When midnight comes around
She 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
Linens and silks of last night'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