Eleanor Rigby
Ah, look at all the lonely peopleAh, look at all the lonely people
Eleanor Rigby picks up the ricein the church where a wedding has beenLives in a dreamWaits at the window, wearing the facethat she keeps in a jar by the doorWho is it for?
All the lonely peopleWhere do they all come from?All the lonely peopleWhere do they all belong?
Father McKenzie writing the wordsof a sermon that no one will hearNo one comes near.Look at him working, darning his socksin the night when there's nobody thereWhat does he care?
All the lonely peopleWhere do they all come from?All the lonely peopleWhere do they all belong?
Ah, look at all the lonely peopleAh, look at all the lonely people
Eleanor Rigby died in the churchand was buried along with her nameNobody cameFather McKenzie wiping the dirt from his handsas he walks from the graveNo one was saved
All the lonely peopleWhere do they all come from?All the lonely peopleWhere do they all belong?