Eleanor Rigby
( J. Lennon, P. McCartney )

Ah, look at all the lonely people,
Ah, look at all the lonely people.

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,
Who is it for?

All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?

Farther McCenzie, writing the words of a sermon
That no one will hear,
No one comes near.
Look at him working, darning his socks in the night
When there's nobody there,
What does he care?

All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?

Ah, look at all the lonely people,
Ah, look at all the lonely people.

Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried
Along with her name.
Nobody came.
Farther McCenzie, wiping the dirt from his hands
As he walks from the grave
No one was saved.

All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?