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