Letras
And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties?
Hand-me-downs from who knows where
To all tomorrow's parties
What will she do, where shall she go
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?
Silks and frills of yesterday's gowns
To all tomorrow's parties
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
For all tomorrow's parties
For all tomorrow's parties
For all tomorrow's parties