And what costume shall the poor girl wear
|
To all tomorrow's parties
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A hand-me-down dress from who knows where
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To all tomorrow's parties
|
And where will she go and what shall she do
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When midnight comes around
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She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
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And cry behind the door
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And what costume shall the poor girl wear
|
To all tomorrow's parties
|
Why silks and linens of yesterday's gowns
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To all tomorrow's parties
|
And what will she do with Thursday's rags When Monday comes around
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She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
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And cry behind the door
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And what costume shall the poor girl wear
|
To all tomorrow's parties
|
For Thursday's child is Sunday's clown
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For whom none will go mourning
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A blackened shroud, a hand-me-down gown
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Of rags and silks, a costume
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Fit for one who sits and cries
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For all tomorrow's parties
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|
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All Tomorrow's Parties
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| The Velvet Underground |