Craptacular Yule
It's amazing how so many lonely people can know each other and still be lonely.
All the people I am talking about read this. All of you know who you are. You know I am among your number as well.
Read it. Even if you know it, read it again. Hear it in your head if you remember what it sounds like. Has there ever been a more poignant ode to solitude and sorrow?
Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been.
Lives in a dream.
Waits at the window, wearing the 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 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?
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?
My heart goes out to those suffering the same lonely ache.
All the people I am talking about read this. All of you know who you are. You know I am among your number as well.
Read it. Even if you know it, read it again. Hear it in your head if you remember what it sounds like. Has there ever been a more poignant ode to solitude and sorrow?
Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been.
Lives in a dream.
Waits at the window, wearing the 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 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?
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?
My heart goes out to those suffering the same lonely ache.