Eleanor Rigby Paroles

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?

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. 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?