In Penny Lane there is 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,
The little children laugh at him behind his back.
And the banker never wears a mack
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 a roundabout
The pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray
And tho’ 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.