All Tomorrow's Parties - 12"

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
 Where will she go
 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
 The silken trimmings of yesterday's gown
 To all tomorrow's parties
 What shall 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
 Thursday's child is Sunday's clown
 From whom no-one ever borrows
 A blackened shroud
 A hand-me-down gown of rags and silks her costume
 Fit for one who sits and cries
 For all tomorrow's parties