♪ Eleanor Wigby picks up the rice in a church where a wedding has been Lives in a dream, waits at the window Wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door Who is it for? Oh, the lonely people Where do they all come from? Oh, the lonely people Where do they all come from? Father McKenzie writing the words of a sonnet that no one will hear No one comes near and look at him working Donning his socks in the night when there's nobody there What does he care? Oh, the lonely people Where do they all come from? Oh, the lonely people Where do they all come from? Oh, look at all the lonely people Oh, look at all the lonely people . . . . . . . . . Eleanor Wigby died in the church and was buried along with her name Nobody came and Father McKenzie opened the door from his hands As he walked from the grave, no one was saved Oh, the lonely people Where do they all come from? Oh, the lonely people Where do they all come from? Oh, look at all the lonely people Oh, look at all the lonely people Where do they all come from? . . . . . . . . . . .