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