Sad Little Stories from Sad Little Girls

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Eleanor Rigby

My name’s Eleanor Rigby.
I pick up the rice in a church
where a wedding has been.
I live in a dream…
I wait at the window,
wearing a face that I keep
in a jar by the door…

Want to know who it’s for?
Want to know all the lonely people,
where do we all come from?
Want to know all the lonely people,
where do we all belong?

That’s Father McKenzie
writing the words to a sermon
that no one will hear.
No one comes near…
Look at him working,
darning his socks in the night
when nobody’s there…

Want to know what does he care?
Want to know all the lonely people,
where do we all come from?
Want to know all the lonely people,
where do we all belong?

I’m named Eleanor Rigby,
I died at the church and
was buried with my name.
Nobody came…
Father McKenzie,
wiping the dirt from his hands
as he walks from my grave.
No one was saved…

Want to know all the lonely people,
where do we all come from?
Want to know all the lonely people,
where do we all belong?

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