Paperback Writer
Penny Lane
Beatles
Penny Lane there in a barber showing photographs
Of every head he's had the pleasure to know.
And all the people that come and go
Stop and say "Hello".
On the corner is a banker with a motorcar,
And little children laugh at him behind his back.
And the banker never wears a mac
In the pouring rain - very strange.
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back
In Penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass,
And in his pocket is a portrait of the Queen.
He likes to keep his fire engine clean,
It's a clean machine.
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
A four of fish and finger pies
in summer. Meanwhile back
behind the shelter in the middle of the roundabout
The pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray.
And though she feels as if she's in a play,
She is anyway.
In Penny Lane the barber shaves another customer,
We see the banker sitting waiting for a trim,
And then the fireman rushes in
From the pouring rain - very strange.
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
There beneath the blue suburban skies...
Penny Lane!
---------------------------------------------------
Beatles
Penny Lane there in a barber showing photographs
Of every head he's had the pleasure to know.
And all the people that come and go
Stop and say "Hello".
On the corner is a banker with a motorcar,
And little children laugh at him behind his back.
And the banker never wears a mac
In the pouring rain - very strange.
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back
In Penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass,
And in his pocket is a portrait of the Queen.
He likes to keep his fire engine clean,
It's a clean machine.
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
A four of fish and finger pies
in summer. Meanwhile back
behind the shelter in the middle of the roundabout
The pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray.
And though she feels as if she's in a play,
She is anyway.
In Penny Lane the barber shaves another customer,
We see the banker sitting waiting for a trim,
And then the fireman rushes in
From the pouring rain - very strange.
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
There beneath the blue suburban skies...
Penny Lane!
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