Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where the wedding has been,nLives in a dream.nWaits by the window, wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door,nWho is it for?nnAll the lonely people, where do they all come from?nAll the lonely people, where do they all belong?nnFather McKenzie, writing the words to a sermon that no one will hear,nNo one is nearnLook at him working, darning his socks in the night when there�s nobody there,nNobody caresnnAll the lonely people, where do they all come from?nAll the lonely people, where do they all belong?nnAh, look at all the lonely people.nAh, look at all the lonely people.nnEleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried alone with her name.nNobody came.nFather McKenzie, wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave.nNo one was saved.nnAll the lonely people, where do they all come from?nAll the lonely people, where do they all belong?nnAnd all the lonely people, where do they all come from?nAnd all the lonely people, where do they all belong?nnAnd all the lonely people, where do they all come from?nAnd all the lonely people, where do they all belong?