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All Tomorrow's Parties
The Velvet Underground Lyrics


In 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

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: Lou Reed

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
To comment on specific lyrics, highlight them
Comments from YouTube:

faeembrugh

The first time you listen to this, you know music won't ever sound the same again.

Khoirul Rahmawan

Music sound better

barnibizer

if you have half a musical taste, yes....unfort most don't. So lets raise a glass and say, F them

Crowley and his 'Friend'

@ducc slot of their songs are a acquired taste, but they sound so different that it's addictive.

ducc

i didnt like it

leslie brown

faeembrugh the first time you hear this you should remember you have heard this thousands of times before in the heart of English song

Mamuli Chor

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

Fazztastic

Femme fatale Clon also

First Last

Well done.

Luca Ferretti

Thank you. From Argentina 🇦🇷!

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