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| 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? |
| 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 |
| Bridge: |
| x2 |
| All the lonely people where do they all come from? |
| All the lonely people where do they all belong? |
