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 White 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 into Sunday's clown And cry behind the door
And what costume shall the poor girl wear To all tomorrow's parties
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