A sign that hangs on down the street
proclaims to one and all
that coming soon there will be
a Lonely-Hearts Club Ball.

A dance of manic turbulence
where singles 're all & none.
You can come all by yourself, but
you'll never leave as one.

You'll be swept into unity
with undulating hoards.
Bound by bindings you'll feel, not see;
you'll never cut these cords.

So, welcome to the end of you,
as only you can know.
And welcome to the beginning
of the everlasting flow.

For an end is a beginning
of something bold and new.
And a beginning is an end:
'cause we're just passing through.