Eleanor Rigby Lyric Thrice First Impressions

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 a face 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.
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the
lonely people, where do they all belong?

 

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