I come in search of Eleanor Rigby & walk the gravel lanes alone
caught in deep contemplation of all the people I have known
Here amongst the Sleepers, Vines & creepers will join hands
A scent in the air from the lavender fair
the breeze is so quiet & low.....the leaves on the ground move on slowly
Hey there Mr. Jones so long to the farmer whose sheep have all gone home
& Mrs. Crowther, 50 years of schooling but no child of her own
Dream away in lost reverie & fond memories
Till you are welcomed home back to the fire light & warm
...the leaves on the trees whisper softly
I come in search of Eleanor Rigby & walk the gravel lanes alone
caught in deep contemplation of all the people I have known