Nico (1928-1988)

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/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