Rasputina - 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
It's fine for one who sits and cries for all tomorrow's parties