All Tomorrows Parties

And what costume shall the poor girl wear

To all tomorrows' parties?

A hand-me-down dress from who knows where

To all tomorrows partiesAnd 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 doorAnd what costume shall the poor girl wear

To all tomorrows' parties?

Why silks and linens of yesterday's gowns

To all tomorrows parties?And what shall she do with yesterday's rags

When Monday comes around?

She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown

And cry behind the doorAnd what costume shall the poor girl wear

To all tomorrows' parties?

For Thursday's child is Sunday's clown

For whom no will go mourningA blackened shroud, a hand-me-down gown

Of rags and silks, a costume

Fits for one who sits and cries

For all tomorrow's parties