Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs,
Of every head he's had the pleasure to have known,
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 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.
Four of fish and finger pies.
In summer, meanwhile back.
Behind the shelter in the middle of a roundabout,
A pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray,
And though she feels as if she's in a play.
She is anyway.
Penny Lane the barber shaves another customer,
We see the banker sitting waiting for a trim,
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.
