Velvet Underground - All tomorrows parties

^DAnd what costume shall the ^Cpoor ^Ggirl ^Dwear ^GTo all ^Ctomorrow’s par^Aties A hand-me-down dress from who knows where To all tomorrow’s parties

^GAnd where will she go and ^Awhat shall she do When ^Gmidnight comes ^Aaround ^DShe’ll turn once more to ^CSunday’^Gs clo^Dwn And ^Gcry ^Abehind the ^Ddoor And what costume shall the poor girl wear To all tomorrow’s parties Why 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 to Sunday’s clown And cry behind the door And what costume shall the poor girl 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 and silks, a costume Fit for one who sits and cries For all tomorrow’s parties