(Originally written and recorded by The Velvet Underground.)
And what costume shall that poor girls 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 behinds the door
And what costume shall that poor girls wear
To all tomorrow's parties
Why silks and linens of yesterdays gowns'
To all tomorrow's parties
And what will she do with yesterday's rags
When Monday comes around
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
And cry behind the door
And what costume shall that poor girls 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 ans silks, a costume
Fit for the one who sits and cries
For all tomoroow's parties
Apoptygma Berzerk - All Tomorrow´S Parties Lyrics
Apoptygma Berzerk - All Tomorrow´S Parties Lyrics
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(Originally written and recorded by The Velvet Underground.)
And what costume shall that poor girls 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 behinds the door
And what costume shall that poor girls wear
To all tomorrow's parties
Why silks and linens of yesterdays gowns'
To all tomorrow's parties
And what will she do with yesterday's rags
When Monday comes around
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
And cry behind the door
And what costume shall that poor girls 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 ans silks, a costume
Fit for the one who sits and cries
For all tomoroow's parties
And what costume shall that poor girls 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 behinds the door
And what costume shall that poor girls wear
To all tomorrow's parties
Why silks and linens of yesterdays gowns'
To all tomorrow's parties
And what will she do with yesterday's rags
When Monday comes around
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
And cry behind the door
And what costume shall that poor girls 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 ans silks, a costume
Fit for the one who sits and cries
For all tomoroow's parties