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AH, Look at all the lonely people!
Eleanor Rigby pick up the rice in the church
Where a wedding had been,
Lives in a dream,
Waits at a window, wearing a 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?
Father McKenzie, 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.
Father McKenzie 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?
-Lennon & McCartney
Revolver, 1966 Northern Songs Ltd.