Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the churchWhere a wedding has beenLives in a dreamWaits at the windowWearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the doorWho is it for?All the lonely peopleWhere do they all come from?All the lonely peopleWhere do they all belong?Father Mckenzie, writing the words of a sermonThat no one will hearNo one comes nearLook at him working, darning his socks in the nightWhen there´s nobody thereWhat does he care?All the lonely peopleWhere do they all come from?All the lonely peopleWhere do they all belong?Ah, look at all the lonely people!Ah, look at all the lonely people!Eleanor Rigby died in the churchAnd was buried along with her nameNobody cameFather Mckenzie wiping the dirt from his handsAs he walks from the graveNo one was savedAll the lonely peopleWhere do they all come from?All the lonely peopleWhere do they all belong?