(reed)

And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow̉‘s parties
A hand-me-down dress from who knows where
To all tomorrow̉‘s parties
And where will she go and what she gonna do
When midnight comes around
She turn once more to sundaỷ‘s clown
And cry behind the door
And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow̉‘s parties
Linens and silks of last night's gowns
To all tomorrow̉‘s parties
And what will she do with thursday's rags
When monday comes around?
She'll turn once more to sundaỷ‘s clown
And cry behind the door
And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow̉‘s parties
For thursday's child is sundaỷ‘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 tomorrow̉‘s parties
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All Tomorrow's Parties Lyrics

Bryan Ferry – All Tomorrow's Parties Lyrics