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 a dream,
Waits at the window, wearing a face that she keep 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 wordsof a sermon that no one will hear.
No one comes near.
Look at him working, darning his socks in the night whe there's nobody there,
What does he cares

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?