(原詩)

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 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

(interlude)

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

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