Eleanor rigby. Picks up the rice in the church where her wedding has been.

Lives in a dream. Waits by the window,wearig the face that she keeps in a jar by the door. Who is it for.

Father Mckenzie writting the words to a sermon that no one will hear.
Looka at him.working.darning his socks in the night when there's no body there. No one comes near. All the lonely people.

I look at all the lonely peopple.