30 acessos
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 was it for?
All the lomely people, where do they all come from?
All the lomely people, where do they all belong?
Father McKenzie writting 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 lomely people, where do they all come from?
All the lomely people, where do they all belong?
Ah! Look at all the lonely people!
Ah! Look at all the lonely people!
Aleanor 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