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Ah, look at all the lonely people. |
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Ah, look at all the lonely people. |
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Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been, lives in a dream, waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door. |
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Who is it for? |
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All the lonely people. |
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Where do they all come from? |
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All the lonely people. |
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Where do they all belong? |
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Father McKenzie writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear, no one comes near, look at him working. |
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Darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there. |
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What does he care? |
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All the lonely people. |
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Where do they all come from? |
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All the lonely people. |
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Where do they all belong? |
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Ah, look at all the lonely people. |
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Ah, look at all the lonely people. |
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Eleanor Rigby, died in the church and was buried along with her name, nobody came. |
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Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave, no one was saved. |
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All the lonely people. |
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Where do they all come from? |
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All the lonely people. |
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Where do they all belong? |
