Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name, nobody came. I wish I could have been there in the starlight When the countryside was quiet once again And the music and the makers, the poets and the singers And the children of the flowers all had gone.
The forest had trees, the meadows were green. Look at him working.
Like my brother above me, he took a rebel stand. Virgil Caine is the name, I served on the Danville train.
Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh. Who is it for? He grabbed his pants and took a stance and he jumped so high, he clicked his heels.
Bojangles, Mr. The old folks move no more Their world become to small their bodies feel like lead they might look out a window or else sit it a chair or else they stay in bed. Bojangles, hey, Mr. Once there was a way to get back homeward Once there was a way to get back home Sleep pretty darling do not cry And I will sing a lullabye. He looked to me to be the eyes of age as he spoke right out. He let go a laugh, he let go a laugh, shook his clothes all around.
They tremble as they watch the old silver clock When day is through tick tock oh so slow It says yes it says no It says I wait for you. Met him in a cell, in New Orleans it was, down and out. October 1970 Buy album from: And the trees are just the leaves On a big breathing globe. Eleanor Rigby. Old Folks. Father McKenzie, writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear, no one comes near.
Sail Away Home.