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SACRED RITE
IS NOTHING SACRED |
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Eleanor Rigby
Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in a church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits by the window, wearing a face that 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 to a sermon that no one will hear
No one comes near
Look at him working, darning his socks in the night while there's nobody there
What does he care?
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
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