Yellow Submarine Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Yellow Submarine script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of The Beatles movie  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Yellow Submarine. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Yellow Submarine Script


  

  

 

                   

Once upon a time



 

                   

ormaybe twice,

there was an unearthly paradise called



 

                   

Pepperland.



 

                   

      leagues beneath the sea itlay,



 

                   

orlie, I'm not too sure.



 

                   

Pepperland is a tickle ofjoy

on the blue belly ofthe universe.



 

                   

It must be scratched.



 

                   

Right, Max?



 

                   

- Yes, Your Blueness.

- What?!



  

                   

We Meanies only take no for an answer.



  

                   

Is that understood, Max?



  

                   

No, Your Blueness.



  

                   

That's better.



  

                   

Are the troops in readiness?



  

                   

No, your Blueness.



  

                   

- The Bonkers?

- No.



  

                   

- Clowns?

- No.



  

                   

- Snapping Turks?

- No.



  

                   

- Anti-music missiles?

- No.



  

                   

- The dreadful Flying Glove?

- No.



  

                   

Splendid!



  

                   

Today, Pepperland goes bluely!



  

                   

Fire!



  

                   

The Meanies are coming!

The Meanies are coming!



  

                   

Glove, Glove, come here, Glove!



  

                   

Look out there,

and what do you see?



  

                   

- Tell him, Max.

- Someone running, Glove.



  

                   

Well, you'll soon put a stop to that,

won't you, Glovey?



  

                   

Go, Glove, point!



  

                   

And having pointed, pounce down!



  

                   

I haven't laughed so much since Pompeii!



  

                   

What?! What?!

The Glove is losing his touch.



  

                   

Do your worst!



  

                   

Explode them!



  

                   

It's not polite to point!



  

                   

Thing of beauty...

destroy it for ever!



  

                   

Sir, Sir, the Meanies are coming!



  

                   

Not here, Young Fred.

They wouldn't dare.



  

                   

They would. They are.

What are you going to do?



  

                   

Finish the quartet.



  

                   

Fire!



  

                   

Trio, sir?



  

                   

Duet, sir?



  

                   

Duet?



  

                   

Solo!



  

                   

Young Fred,

the Blue Meanies are coming!



  

                   

  scores and    bars ago,



  

                   

- our forefathers...

- Our quartet?



  

                   

- and foremothers...

- Another quartet?



  

                   

made it in this yellow submarine...



  

                   

- What, that little thing?

- to Pepperland.



  

                   

Climb aboard, Young Fred.



  

                   

But, sir, I can't even

make my soap float.



  

                   

I'm appointing you Lord Admiral.



  

                   

Lord Admiral?

ln that event, yes.



  

                   

Hurry, Young Fred.

Go! Get help!



  

                   

Where should I go?



  

                   

No time for trivialities.



  

                   

In the town where I was born



  

                   

Liveda man who sailed to sea



  

                   

Andhe told us ofhis life



  

                   

In the land ofsubmarines



  

                   

So we sailed on to the sun



  

                   

Till we found the sea ofgreen



  

                   

And we livedbeneath the waves



  

                   

In our Yellow Submarine



  

                   

We all live in a Yellow Submarine



  

                   

Yellow Submarine, Yellow Submarine



  

                   

We all live in a Yellow Submarine



  

                   

Yellow Submarine, Yellow Submarine



  

                   

And ourfriends are all aboard



  

                   

Manymore ofthem live next door



  

                   

And the bandbegins to play



  

                   

We all live in a Yellow Submarine



  

                   

Yellow Submarine, Yellow Submarine



  

                   

We all live in a Yellow Submarine



  

                   

Yellow Submarine, Yellow Submarine



  

                   

Full speedahead, Mr. Boatswain.

Full speedahead.



  

                   

Full speeditis, sir.



  

                   

Action stations!Action stations!



  

                   

Aye, sir, aye.



  

                   

Captain, Captain!



  

                   

As we live a life ofease



  

                   

Every one ofus has all we need



  

                   

Sky ofblue andsea ofgreen



  

                   

In our Yellow Submarine



  

                   

We all live in a Yellow Submarine,



  

                   

Yellow Submarine, Yellow Submarine,



  

                   

We all live in a Yellow Submarine,



  

                   

Yellow Submarine, Yellow Submarine,



  

                   

We all live in a Yellow Submarine,



  

                   

Yellow Submarine, Yellow Submarine



  

                   

Ah, look atall the lonely people



  

                   

Ah, look atall the lonely people



  

                   

EleanorRigby



  

                   

Picks up the rice in the church

where a wedding has been



  

                   

Lives in a dream



  

                   

Waits at the window, wearing the face

thatshe keeps in ajarby the door



  

                   

Who is itfor?



   

                   

All the lonely people



   

                   

Where do theyall come from?



   

                   

All the lonely people,

where do theyall belong?



   

                   

FatherMcKenzie, writing the words

ofa sermon thatno-one will hear



   

                   

No-one comes near



   

                   

Look athim working, darning his socks

in the night when there's nobody there



   

                   

What does he care?



   

                   

All the lonely people,

where do theyall come from?



   

                   

All the lonely people,

where do theyall belong?



   

                   

Ah, look atall the lonely people



   

                   

Ah, look atall the lonely people



   

                   

EleanorRigby, diedin the church

and was buriedalong with hername



   

                   

Nobody came



   

                   

FatherMcKenzie, wiping the dirt

from his hands as he walks from the grave



   

                   

No-one was saved



   

                   

All the lonely people,

where do theyall come from?



   

                   

All the lonely people,

where do theyall belong?



   

                   

Woe... is me.



   

                   

Liverpool can be a lonely place

on a Saturday night.



   

                   

And this is only Thursday morning.



   

                   

Compared with mylife,

EleanorRigby's was a gay, mad whirl.



   

                   

Nothing ever happens to me.



   

                   

Ifeellike an old,

splintered drumstick.



   

                   

I'd jump into the River Mersey,

but it looks like rain.



   

                   

Nothing ever happens to me.



   

                   

Puss, puss-puss.

Puss, puss, puss. Here, pussy.



   

                   

Here, pussy, pussy, pussy.

Here, pussy, pussy.



   

                   

Ahem, er...



   

                   

Would you believe me if I told you I was

being followed by a yellow submarine?



   

                   

No, I would not.



   

                   

Oh yeah, I didn't think you would.



   

                   

I could have sworn

there was a yellow submarine.



   

                   

But that isn't logical, is it?



   

                   

It must have been one ofthem

unidentified flying cupcakes



   

                   

or a figment of my imagination.



   

                   

But I don't have an imagination.



   

                   

Help, help, help !



   

                   

Thanks, I don'tneedany.



   

                   

Help! Won't you please,

please help me?



   

                   

Be specific.



   

                   

..Blue Meanies!



   

                   

What you need is...



   

                   

'H' for hurry, 'E' for ergent,

'L' for love me and 'P' for p-p-please help.



   

                   

Hiya, baby!



   

                   

Your story has touched my heart.

Jump in, we'll get my friends.



   

                   

- Bless you!

- Did I sneeze?



   

                   

- Just park it here.

- I'll just park it here.



   

                   

- What would your friends be doing here?

- Displaying.



   

                   

- Displaying what?

- Displaying around.



   

                   

- Can't we take one ofthese?

- No. I only work with my mates.



   

                   

Frankenstein?



   

                   

I used to go out with his sister.



   

                   

- His sister?

- Yeah. Phyllis.



   

                   

Hey, I wonder what would happen

if I pulled this lever.



   

                   

You mustn't do that.



   

                   

Can't help it.

I'm a born lever-puller.



   

                   

Ringo, I've just had

the strangest dream.



   

                   

I warned you not to eat

on an empty stomach.



   

                   

Now listen to Old Fred.



   

                   

..Blue Meanies!



   

                   

What do you think?



   

                   

I think he needs a rehearsal.



   

                   

When do we leave?



   

                   

Let's get the other two, John.



   

                   

- What day is it?

- Sitarday.



   

                   

Then George will be here.



   

                   

George, what are you doing up there?



   

                   

Now, what is it, Ringo?



   

                   

Is there a matter

you'd like to take up



   

                   

or down?



   

                   

This chap here...



   

                   

..Blue Meanies!



   

                   

You're nuts, the pair ofyou.



   

                   

Wait a minute, that's my car.



   

                   

- How do you know it's your car?

- I'd know it anywhere.



   

                   

- What's it look like, then?

- It's red with yellow wheels.



   

                   

I mean, blue with orange wheels.



   

                   

It's all in the mind.



   

                   

- Move over, I'm driving.

- I got here first.



   

                   

- I'll drive, ifyou like.

- No, you sit in the middle.



   

                   

- I'm sitting in the middle.

- You said you were driving.



   

                   

- I am driving.

- I'll get in the back, then.



   

                   

Do you think we're

interrupting something?



   

                   

I think so.



   

                   

We'd better find Paul, hadn't we?



   

                   

It's all in the mind.



   

                   

Try one ofthose doors.



   

                   

- Yes, they do look very nice, don't they?

- Yes, they do.



   

                   

- They do, though, don't they?

- Yes, they do.



   

                   

- Don't dey, dough?

- Dough ?



   

                   

- Don't ask.

- Dat's dough.



   

                   

What's the matter, fellas?

Blue Meanies?



   

                   

Well, lads, what do you think?



   

                   

-I think that...

-Remember, there'll be rough seas ahead.



   

                   

So, what do you think?



   

                   

Well, then, um...



   

                   

Pounding, overwhelming waves.

What do you think ofthat?



   

                   

- Well, I think that...

- As a matter offact, l...



   

                   

I think...



   

                   

- Well?

- I've forgotten.



   

                   

Right, then,

let's get this vessel shipshape.



   

                   

I kind of like the way it is,

submarine shape.



   

                   

- So, this is a submarine.

- Soft, isn't it?



   

                   

Not ifyou're on the bottom.



   

                   

All right, lads,

time to stow the gab and turn to.



   

                   

Groovy. How do you start this thing?



   

                   

It starts with a Blue Meanie attack.



   

                   

Supposing there's no Blue Meanies

in the neighbourhood?



   

                   

Then you start looking for a switch.



   

                   

Perhaps this is it.



   

                   

One, two, three, four



   

                   

Can lhave a little more?



   

                   

Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten



   

                   

Ilove you



   

                   

A, B, C, D



   

                   

Can lbring myfriend to tea?



   

                   

E, F, G, H, l, J



   

                   

Ilove you



   

                   

Sail the ship



   

                   

Chop the tree



   

                   

Skip the rope



   

                   

Look atme



   

                   

All togethernow



   

                   

All togethernow (all togethernow),

all togethernow (all togethernow)



   

                   

All togethernow (all togethernow),

all togethernow



   

                   

Black, white, green, red



   

                   

Can I take myfriend to bed?



   

                   

Pink, brown, yellow, orange andblue



   

                   

Ilove you (All togethernow)



   

                   

All togethernow (all togethernow),

all togethernow (all togethernow)



   

                   

All togethernow,



   

                   

All togethernow (all togethernow),

all togethernow (all togethernow)



   

                   

All togethernow (all togethernow),

all togethernow (all togethernow)



   

                   

All togethernow



   

                   

Sail the ship



   

                   

Chop the tree



   

                   

Skip the rope



   

                   

Look atme



   

                   

All togethernow



   

                   

All togethernow (all togethernow),

all togethernow (all togethernow)



   

                   

All togethernow (all togethernow),

all togethernow (all togethernow)



   

                   

All togethernow (all togethernow),

all togethernow (all togethernow)



   

                   

All togethernow (all togethernow),

all togethernow (all togethernow)



   

                   

All togethernow!



   

                   

What time is it?



   

                   

It's time for time.



   

                   

Look, the hands are slowing down.



   

                   

- Do you ever get the feeling...

- Yeah.



   

                   

that things aren't as rosy

as they appear to be under the surface?



   

                   

What's happening, John?



   

                   

In my humble opinion,

we've become involved



   

                   

in Einstein's time-space

continuum theory.



   

                   

Relatively speaking, that is.



   

                   

- Maybe time's gone on strike.

- What for?



   

                   

- Shorter hours.

- I don't blame it.



   

                   

It must be very tiring being time,

mustn't it?



   

                   

- Why?

- It's a twenty-four hour day, isn't it?



   

                   

- You surprise me, Ringo.

- Why?



   

                   

- Dealing in abstracts.

- Just because I'm a drummer...



   

                   

- I don't halffeel funny.

- You're not halfthe lad you used to be.



   

                   

Look, everything's getting bigger.



   

                   

It's not.

It's us that are getting smaller...



   

                   

- I want my mam.

- and younger.



   

                   

There you are, lads.

Old Fred will get you out of all this.



   

                   

Look at that!



   

                   

- It's all a load of Father Xmas's.

- It's not. It's Father Time.



   

                   

- How do you know?

- I read it in a book.



   

                   

I don't want to alarm you,

but the years are going backwards.



   

                   

What's that mean, Old Fred?



   

                   

Ifwe slip back through time

at this rate,



   

                   

very soon we'll all disappear

up our own existence.



   

                   

- What are we gonna do, then?

- We could always try a few buttons.



   

                   

I want my mam.



   

                   

Time's fast running out for us,

I'm afraid.



   

                   

Can't we do something to the clock?



   

                   

What do you mean, John?



   

                   

Move the hands forward,

see what happens.



   

                   

Clever lad.



   

                   

Something strange is happening.



   

                   

It's speeding up now.



   

                   

Funny... a submarine

remarkably like our own.



   

                   

Uncannily.



   

                   

There's someone in it. Look.



   

                   

- And they're waving.

- It's a group offellas.



   

                   

Wave back.



   

                   

Maybe we're both part of

a vast yellow submarine fleet.



   

                   

There's only two of us.



   

                   

Then I would suggest that

yonder yellow submarine is ourselves



   

                   

- going backwards...

- ..in time!



   

                   

Look at Ringo.



   

                   

Oh dear, we're all the same.



   

                   

Senile delinquents.



   

                   

And I can hear my beard growing.



   

                   

We'd better do something.



   

                   

When lget older, losing myhair



   

                   

Manyyears from now



   

                   

Will you still be sending me a valentine



   

                   

Birthdaygreetings, bottle ofwine



   

                   

Ifl'dbeen out till quarter to three



   

                   

Wouldyou lock the door?



   

                   

Will you still needme,

will you still feedme



   

                   

When I'm sixty-four?



   

                   

You'll be older, too



   

                   

Andifyou say the word



   

                   

I couldstay with you



   

                   

I couldbe handy mending a fuse



   

                   

When yourlights have gone



   

                   

You can knita sweaterby the fiireside



   

                   

Sundaymornings, go fora ride



   

                   

Doing the garden, digging the weeds



   

                   

Who couldask formore?



   

                   

Will you still needme,

will you still feedme



   

                   

When I'm sixty-four?



   

                   

Everysummer we can renta cottage

in the lsle ofWight, ifit's not too dear



   

                   

We shall scrimp andsave



   

                   

Grandchildren on yourknee,

Vera, Chuck andDave



   

                   

Sendme a postcard,

drop me a line



   

                   

Statingpoint ofview



   

                   

Indicate precisely

whatyou mean to say



   

                   

Yours sincerely, wasting away



   

                   

Give me youranswer, fiill in a form,

mine forevermore



   

                   

Will you still needme,

will you still feedme



   

                   

When I'm sixty-four?



   

                   

Well, correct me if I'm wrong,

gentlemen,



   

                   

but would you agree that we have been

passing through the Sea of Time?



   

                   

That would explain a few things.



   

                   

I'm glad I'm not young any more.



   

                   

Or was it old?



   

                   

- What kind of a sea is this?

- The Sea of Science.



   

                   

Oh, yeah.



   

                   

Ifyou're listening to this song



   

                   

You may think the chords

are going wrong



   

                   

But they're not



   

                   

Hejust wrote itlike that



   

                   

When you're listening late atnight



   

                   

You may think the band

are not quite right



   

                   

But theyare



   

                   

Theyjustplayitlike that



   

                   

It doesn'treally matter

what chords lplay



   

                   

What words lsay

or time ofdayitis



   

                   

Cause it's only a Northern Song



   

                   

It doesn'treally matter

what clothes I wear



   

                   

Orhowlfare orifmyhair is brown



   

                   

When it's only a Northern Song



   

                   

Ifyou think the harmony



   

                   

Is a little dark and out ofkey



   

                   

You're correct



   

                   

There's nobody there



   

                   

Andl toldyou there's no-one there.



   

                   

- He looks wrong.

- He doesn't look at all well.



   

                   

In fact, he's horrible.



   

                   

He's so ugly.



   

                   

Really ugly!



   

                   

Somebody push a button.



   

                   

- There's a Cyclops.

- Can't be. He's got two eyes.



   

                   

Then it must be a bi-Cyclops.



   

                   

- There's another one.

- A whole cyclopedia.



   

                   

There's a school ofwhales.



   

                   

- They look a bit old for school.

- University, then.



   

                   

- University ofWhales.

- They look like dropouts to me.



   

                   

You've got to steer clear.



   

                   

- Steer clear?

- Yes, steer. Clear?



   

                   

Yes, dear.



   

                   

Now, whatever you do,

don't touch that button.



   

                   

- Which button?

- That one.



   

                   

This one?



   

                   

That was the panic button.



   

                   

- Poor Ringo.

- Poor lad.



   

                   

Never did no harm to no-one.



   

                   

Lads, now Ringo's gone,

what are we gonna do?



   

                   

Learn to sing trios.



   

                   

No, let's save the poor devil.



   

                   

I see footsteps.



   

                   

- It's a pair of kinky boot-beasts.

- Preparing to attack.



   

                   

- I don't half miss Ringo.

- He's far out there.



   

                   

Always was.



   

                   

- Here comes Ringo!

- 'H' is for hurry...!



   

                   

There goes Ringo.



   

                   

It's seen us.



   

                   

Find a boxing button.



   

                   

Whoever heard of a boxing button?



   

                   

Who cares? Find one.



   

                   

Fire one!



   

                   

Uh-oh, wrong one.



   

                   

That.



   

                   

There goes Ringo again.



   

                   

- Rides well, doesn't he?

- 'E' is for ergent...



   

                   

Oh no, not the dreaded vacuum again.



   

                   

- We'll be sucked into oblivion.

- Or even further.



   

                   

Put her in reverse.



   

                   

So long, sucker.



   

                   

- Too much.

- Too soon.



   

                   

Reverse! Reverse!



   

                   

- Ringo time.

- 'L' is for love me...



   

                   

Indians!



   

                   

Help! Help!



   

                   

'P' is for please...



   

                   

So, press a button.



   

                   

- How was it, Ringo?

- 'Arrowing.



   

                   

Look who's back.

Full speed ahead.



   

                   

- Oh, no.

- The motor's packing in.



   

                   

By all the sea nymphets,

we're losing power.



   

                   

We're being swallowed.

What shall we do?



   

                   

- Serve tea.

- Lovely.



   

                   

By Neptune's knickerbockers,

she's puttered out.



   

                   

- Maybe we should call a road service.

- Can't. No road.



   

                   

And we're not sub-scribers.



   

                   

Subscribers...!



   

                   

I know something about motors.

Let me have a look.



   

                   

- Here.

- Is that the motor?



   

                   

Can't you tell one

when you see one?



   

                   

Of course I can.

Let me peruse it.



   

                   

- What do you think?

- I think I burned my finger.



   

                   

Here, lads. Look at this.



   

                   

- What do you think it is?

- Nothing.



   

                   

Looks like nothing.



   

                   

It's a local inhabitant.



   

                   

He's probably one ofthe nothings.



   

                   

At least that's something.



   

                   

Let's show him our motor.



   

                   

Steady on. You don't want to show

your motor to just anybody.



   

                   

But this is a nobody.



   

                   

Medic, pedic, zed oblique,

orphic, morphic, dorphic, Greek.



   

                   

Ad hoc, ad loc and quid pro quo.

So little time, so much to know.



   

                   

Can you tell us where we're at?



   

                   

A true Socratic query, that.



   

                   

And who the Billy Shears are you?



   

                   

Who? Who indeed am l?



   

                   

Jeremy?



   

                   

Hillary?



   

                   

Boob?



   

                   

- Ph.D.?

- Who?



   

                   

Eminent physicist, polyglot, classicist,



   

                   

prize-winning botanist,

hard biting satirist,



   

                   

- talented pianist, good dentist, too.

- Lousy poet.



   

                   

Critic's voice,

take your choice.



   

                   

- Must be one ofthem angry young men.

- Or a daffy old creep.



   

                   

I, daffy old creep?



   

                   

- Do you speak English?

- Old English, middle, a dialect, pure...



   

                   

- Well, do you speak English?

- You know, I'm not sure.



   

                   

He's so smart,

he doesn't even remember what he knows.



   

                   

Why don't we show him our motor?



   

                   

- Should we really... show him our motor?

- He may not have seen one before.



   

                   

Turbo-prop, super-combustible spring.



   

                   

Metrocyclonic and stereophonic,

this motor, I see, has a broken down thing.



   

                   

- He fixed it.

- He fixed it?



   

                   

Great. Let's go.



   

                   

I must complete my bust, two novels,

finish my blueprints, begin my beguine.



   

                   

Must you always talk in rhyme?



   

                   

If I spoke prose, you'd all find out,

I don't know what I talk about.



   

                   

Ad hoc, ad loc and quid pro quo.

So little time, so much to know.



   

                   

Hey, fellas. Look.



   

                   

The footnotes for my   th book.



   

                   

This is my standard procedure for doing it.



   

                   

And while I compose it,

I'm also reviewing it.



   

                   

- A boob for all seasons.

- How can he lose?



   

                   

Were your notices good ?



   

                   

It's my policy never to read my reviews.



   

                   

There must be a word for what he is.



   

                   

He's a reaINowhere Man



   

                   

Sitting in his Nowhere Land



   

                   

Making all his Nowhere plans

fornobody



   

                   

Doesn'thave a point ofview,

Knows not where he's going to



   

                   

Isn'the a bitlike you andme



   

                   

Nowhere Man, please listen,

You don'tknow whatyou're missing



   

                   

Nowhere Man,

the worldis atyour command



   

                   

He's as blindas he can be,

Justsees whathe wants to see



   

                   

Nowhere Man,

can you see me atall?



   

                   

Nowhere Man, don't worry,

Take your time, don'thurry



   

                   

Leave itall till somebody else

lends you a hand



   

                   

#Doesn'thave a point ofview,

Knows not where he's going to



   

                   

Isn'the a bitlike you andme



   

                   

Nowhere Man, please listen,

You don'tknow whatyou're missing



   

                   

Nowhere Man,

the worldis atyour command



   

                   

He's a reaINowhere Man,

Sitting in his nowhere land



   

                   

Making all his Nowhere plans

fornobody



   

                   

Making all his Nowhere plans

fornobody



   

                   

Making all his Nowhere plans

fornobody



   

                   

Okay, men, all aboard.

Let's go somewhere.



   

                   

What about him?



   

                   

He's happy enough

going around in circles.



   

                   

Poor little fella.



   

                   

I don't know.

Ringo's just a sentimentalist.



   

                   

Look at him.

Can't he come with us?



   

                   

Mr. Boob, you can come with us,

ifyou like.



   

                   

You mean, you'd take a Nowhere Man?



   

                   

Come on, we'll take you somewhere.



   

                   

Okay, Booby. Down the hatch.



   

                   

Down the hatch.

A quite curious phrase.



   

                   

The middle South Midlands

Victorian phase.



   

                   

Its usage undoubtedly on the increase.



   

                   

I must work it into

my New Statesman piece.



   

                   

- That's the hatch, friend.

- Indeed.



   

                   

Steady now, crew.

Prepare to go forward.



   

                   

- Forward.

- Forward.



   

                   

- Forward.

- Forward.



   

                   

Forward!



   

                   

It's awf$ully quiet.

What shall we do, Jeremy?



   

                   

Repair, revive, revamp, renew.

Ipse dixit, just turn the screw.



   

                   

- Log sign, clog sign, big thingamabob.

- What's he saying?



   

                   

- What's he doing?

- Chewing gum will do the job.



   

                   

A turn ofthe screw, and all is



   

                   

and all is new.



   

                   

I can't stop her.



   

                   

'H' is for hurry, 'E' is for ergent,

'L' is for love me



   

                   

'P' is for... goodbye?



   

                   

- That was lovely, Jeremy.

- We've lost the sub for good.



   

                   

- Or for bad.

- Or for worse.



   

                   

- I'm sorry about that.

- But he did fix the motor.



   

                   

- Where are we?

- It looks like the foothills.



   

                   

- The foothills ofwhat?

- The foothills ofthe headlands.



   

                   

Picture yourselfin a boat on a river



   

                   

With tangerine trees

andmarmalade skies





 

                   

Somebody calls you,

you answer quite slowly



 

                   

A girl with kaleidoscope eyes



 

                   

Cellophane flowers ofyellowandgreen



 

                   

Towering overyourhead



 

                   

Look for the girl with the sun

in her eyes andshe's gone



 

                   

Lucyin the sky with diamonds



 

                   

Lucyin the sky with diamonds



 

                   

Lucyin the sky with diamonds



 

                   

Followher down to a bridge

bya fountain



  

                   

Where rocking horse people

eatmarshmallowpies



  

                   

Everyone smiles

as you drift past the flowers



  

                   

Thatgrowso incredibly high



  

                   

Newspaper taxis appear on the shore



  

                   

Waiting to take you away



  

                   

Climb in the back with yourhead

in the clouds andyou're gone



  

                   

Lucyin the sky with diamonds



  

                   

Lucyin the sky with diamonds



  

                   

Lucyin the sky with diamonds



  

                   

Picture yourselfon a train in a station



  

                   

With Plasticine porters

with looking glass ties



  

                   

Suddenly someone is there

at the turnstile



  

                   

The girl with kaleidoscope eyes



  

                   

Lucyin the sky with diamonds



  

                   

Lucyin the sky with diamonds



  

                   

Lucyin the sky with diamonds



  

                   

- Carry on, lads, carry on.

- Certainly was carrying on.



  

                   

- I feel a draft.

- We must be near the Sea of Holes.



  

                   

Don't you think we should

ask somebody for directions?



  

                   

- Excuse us...

- Can you tell us the way to Pepperland?



  

                   

Thanks.



  

                   

Gosh, look at all this dust?



  

                   

Where did it come from?



  

                   

A chemical error and quite imprecise.

This is a condiment...



  

                   

- Condi...

- A spice.



  

                   

- He's right, you know. It's pepper.

- Pepper?



  

                   

Pepper.



  

                   

John?



  

                   

Paul?



  

                   

George?

ls anybody home?



  

                   

- Where are we?

- A holey sea.



  

                   

This place reminds me

of Blackburn, Lancashire.



  

                   

Oh, boy...



  

                   

How many do you think

there are in all?



  

                   

Enough to fill the Albert Hall.



  

                   

Didn't Old Fred mention something

about the Sea of Holes



  

                   

-just before the Sea of Green?

- Yeah.



  

                   

Through one ofthem slots

must be the Sea of Green.



  

                   

But which? Which one?



  

                   

Thesis, antithesis, synthesis,



  

                   

causes of causal causation.



  

                   

Jeremy, what do you know about holes?



  

                   

There are simply no holes

in my education.



  

                   

You mean you haven't composed

a whole book?



  

                   

Great. What shall we do?



  

                   

Be empirical. Look.



  

                   

The booby's making

more and more sense.



  

                   

It's getting better all the time.



  

                   

Great. Come on, let's all

look for the Sea of Green.



  

                   

The Sea of Holes...

into the Sea of Green.



  

                   

Hydrolate, verdant chrysodine.

I think we're near the Sea of Green.



  

                   

I've got a hole in my pocket.



  

                   

Where's Jeremy?



  

                   

He was over there.



  

                   

- He's not here now.

- He must have jumped ship, then.



  

                   

He wouldn't do that.

He's our friend.



  

                   

Booby, Jeremy, Hillary,

where are you?



  

                   

Sea ofGreen...



  

                   

Pepperland.

A bit salty around the edges.



  

                   

- Looks all dingy.

- And drab.



  

                   

And quiet.



  

                   

Safe at last.



  

                   

And none the worse for our adventures.



  

                   

Reminiscent in many ways

ofthe late Mr. Ulysses.



  

                   

There's an eye in the apples.



  

                   

There she blows!



  

                   

Lord Mayor, sir...

I've made it, I'm back.



  

                   

- Who's this?

- Our Lord Mayor.



  

                   

He's been bonked.



  

                   

Lord Mayor, sir...

unbonk yourself.



  

                   

Even a little snatch of a tune

might get him up again.



  

                   

All right, let's sing.



  

                   

Have you got time to rectify,

time to rectify...



  

                   

Do I hear music?



  

                   

- Do I see... Young Fred?

- You do, Lord Mayor.



  

                   

Bless my metronome.

And did you bring help?



  

                   

Yes, yes. Look.



  

                   

Holy pizzicato, Young Fred.



  

                   

- It's quite uncanny, your faces...

- We're quite cute, really.



  

                   

- You could pass for the originals.

- We are the originals.



  

                   

No, no...

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.



  

                   

They couldn't be much with a name

like that. Sergeant Pepper?



  

                   

You could impersonate them

and rally the land to rebellion.



  

                   

- Where are your instruments?

- Lost in the Monstrous Sea.



  

                   

Sea of Monsters.



  

                   

We'll get other instruments,

Lord Mayor.



  

                   

Not a chance. The Meanies captured

everything that maketh music.



  

                   

- They hate music that much, do they?

- They shrink at the very sound.



  

                   

Okay, you guys.

It's shrinking time in Pepperland.



  

                   

Aim, fire!



   

                   

He reminds me

of my old English teacher.



   

                   

Look, ifyou must shout,

shout quietly.



   

                   

- What do we do?

- Coagulate with the crowd.



   

                   

Cut-outs at the ready.

Then let's cut out.



   

                   

What a grand bandstand.



   

                   

That's where the gear's kept.

Come on.



   

                   

Cavey, cavey.



   

                   

- All right, the coast is clear.

- Now's our chance.



   

                   

- But how'll we get over...?

- Easy. Follow me.



   

                   

A-ha! You fools!



   

                   

- It's not very light in here, is it?

- Shh! Keep the noise down.



   

                   

- Look what I found.

- It's their uniforms.



   

                   

- Nice bit of gear, that.

- They'll look great on, eh?



   

                   

- Dey will, won't dey?

- Won't dey, dough.



   

                   

- How do I look?

- Groovy. How about me?



   

                   

- Bad scene, lads. We're surrounded.

- Oh, heck.



   

                   

A million billion Meanies.



   

                   

They're coming this way.



   

                   

Hide!



   

                   

- Do you think they heard us?

- I hope not.



   

                   

- What did you say?

- Shh!



   

                   

Good plan.



   

                   

Look. They're all asleep.



   

                   

They look cute when they're asleep.

Almost human.



   

                   

- Come on. Let's get out of here.

- On tiptoe.



   

                   

- Tiptoe through the Meanies...

- Shh!



   

                   

Let's exude.



   

                   

Relax, lads.

Not a Meanie in sight.



   

                   

- Not even a teeny Meanie.

- Not even a teeny-weeny Meanie.



   

                   

- Look. Breakfast.

- I'm dying for a bit of brekky.



   

                   

Look out.



   

                   

Sound off, one, two, three, four...



   

                   

- One, two, three, four...

- Five.



   

                   

Five?



   

                   

- Sound off, one, two, three...

- Four.



   

                   

- One, two, three...

- Four.



   

                   

- One, two...

- Three.



   

                   

- Three?

- Two.



   

                   

Two?



   

                   

- One.

- One?



   

                   

Are you Bluish?



   

                   

- You don't look Bluish.

- Run for it.



   

                   

Right, men. We've made it.



   

                   

- Instruments at the ready.

- Okay, on the beat. A-one, a-two,



   

                   

a-three, a-four, a-five, a-six.



   

                   

Can't you make it three?



   

                   

All right. On the beat ofthree...

A-one, a-two, a-three...



   

                   

It was twentyyears ago today,

Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play



   

                   

They've been going in and out ofstyle,

But they're guaranteed to raise a smile



   

                   

So maylintroduce to you,

The actyou've known forall these years



   

                   

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band



   

                   

We're Sgt. Pepper's

Lonely Hearts Club Band



   

                   

We hope you will enjoy the show



   

                   

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band



   

                   

Sitback andlet the evening go



   

                   

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely,

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely



   

                   

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band



   

                   

It's wonderful to be here,

it's certainly a thrill



   

                   

You're such a lovely audience,

we'dlike to take you home with us



   

                   

We'dlove to take you home



   

                   

I don'treally wanna stop the show,

Butl thoughtyou mightlike to know



   

                   

That the singer's gonna sing a song,

Andhe wants you all to sing along



   

                   

So letme introduce to you,

The one and only Billy Shears



   

                   

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band



   

                   

Billy



   

                   

Shears!



   

                   

What wouldyou think

iflsang out oftune?



   

                   

Wouldyou stand up

and walk out on me?



   

                   

Lendme your ears

andl'll singyou a song



   

                   

Andl'll try not to sing out ofkey



   

                   

- The hills are alive...

- ..with the sound ofmusic.



   

                   

Who is responsible for this?



   

                   

Rimsky Korsakov?



   

                   

Guy Lombardo?



   

                   

My dear friend...



   

                   

Iet us not forget

that heaven is blue.



   

                   

Tomorrow, the world!



   

                   

Bring in my Bloobers.



   

                   

- Who?

- Who?



   

                   

- Who?

- Who?



   

                   

There you are,



   

                   

my little Glovey-dovey.



   

                   

Go get thee hence



   

                   

and destroy yon upstarts.



   

                   

Smash them! Squash them! Crash them!



   

                   

Oblue-terate them!



   

                   

Here, your Blueness,

have some nasty medicine.



   

                   

The Glove, the Glove, the Glove!



   

                   

- Glove?

- Glove?



   

                   

- Glove?

- Glove?



   

                   

He's a clever lad, isn't he?



   

                   

Open your mouth, it won't hurt.



   

                   

John, you haven't half got a big mouth,

haven't you?



   

                   

It's easy.

All you need is love.



   

                   

Love, love, love



   

                   

Love, love, love



   

                   

Love, love, love



   

                   

There's nothingyou can do

that can'tbe done



   

                   

Nothingyou can sing

that can'tbe sung



   

                   

Nothingyou can say

butyou can learn how to play the game



   

                   

It's easy



   

                   

All you needis love



   

                   

All you needis love



   

                   

All you needis love, love,

Love is all you need



   

                   

Nothingyou can know thatisn'tknown,

Nothingyou can see thatisn'tshown



   

                   

There's nowhere you can be

thatisn't where you're meant to be



   

                   

It's easy



   

                   

All you needis love,

(All togethernow)



   

                   

All you needis love,

(Everybody)



   

                   

All you needis love, love,

Love is all you need



   

                   

All you needis love



   

                   

All you needis love



   

                   

All you needis love, love



   

                   

Go, Glove, lovely Glove.



   

                   

You took the words

right out of my mouth, John.



   

                   

Hey, wait, and watch.



   

                   

It's all in the mind, you know.



   

                   

Love is all you need



   

                   

Love is all you need



   

                   

Hey, that's a funny place

to leave a goldfish bowl.



   

                   

In Pepperland,

all things are possible.



   

                   

- It's not a goldfish bowl.

- Just a big glass bowl, then.



   

                   

- It's blue glass.

- It must be from Kentucky.



   

                   

There's something inside.



   

                   

- Four fellas.

- What are they doing there?



   

                   

They're not having a ball,

that's for sure.



   

                   

- It can't be.

- It's us.



   

                   

- But we're here.

- It's Sgt. Pepper's...



   

                   

- Lonely...

- Hearts Club...



   

                   

Band.



   

                   

The resemblance is truly striking.



   

                   

If I could come in here



   

                   

I think the theory

put forward by Einstein



   

                   

could well be applied here.



   

                   

The people in the ball are obviously

extensions of our own personalities,



   

                   

suspended, as it were, in time,



   

                   

frozen in space, according to

the now famous Theory of Relativity,



   

                   

which, briefly explained,

is simply a matter oftaking two eggs...



   

                   

- John!

- beating lightly



   

                   

and adding a little salt and pepper...



   

                   

- John!

- George?



   

                   

- How do we get them out?

- Break the glass.



   

                   

- We can't. It's Beatle-proof.

- Nothing is Beatle-proof.



   

                   

Have you got your drumsticks with you?

A drum break might shatter it.



   

                   

- No, I haven't.

- Have a look in your pocket.



   

                   

I've got a hole in my pocket.

I wonder if...



   

                   

- Yeah, it still works.

- We take back all we said.



   

                   

- You're a genius, a sheer genius.

- I know, I know, I know.



   

                   

- Like coloured telly.

- Like crystal.



   

                   

They're decanting.



   

                   

Hello, brother.



   

                   

Yeah, without a doubt.



   

                   

- We're the spitting image of each other.

- Golly, yeah.



   

                   

I'm led to believe that you're an extension

of my personality.



   

                   

- Yes, I'm the alter-ego man.

- And I'm the ego man, goo goo, g'joob.



   

                   

I'm glad you asked me that.

Because as a matter offact



   

                   

there's a war on.



   

                   

Then, brothers in war,

to the skirmish must we hence.



   

                   

- Shall we hence?

- Let's not waste time sitting on the hence.



   

                   

Beatles to battle. Charge!



   

                   

- We're surrounded.

- Nice dog, though.



   

                   

Sheepdog... standing in the rain



   

                   

Bullfrog... doing itagain



   

                   

Some kind ofhappiness

is measured outin miles



   

                   

Whatmakes you thinkyou're

something special when you smile?



   

                   

Childlike... no-one understands



   

                   

Jacknife... in yoursweatyhands



   

                   

Some kind ofinnocence

is measured outin years



   

                   

You don'tknow whatit's like

to listen to yourfears



   

                   

You can talk to me,

You can talk to me



   

                   

You can talk to me...

ifyou're lonely you can talk to me



   

                   

Big man... walking in the park



   

                   

Wigwam... frightened ofthe dark



   

                   

Some kind ofsolitude

is measured outin you



   

                   

You thinkyou knowme

butyou haven'tgota clue



   

                   

You can talk to me,

You can talk to me



   

                   

You can talk to me...

ifyou're lonely you can talk to me



   

                   

Hey, bulldog



   

                   

Hey, bulldog



   

                   

Hey, bulldog



   

                   

Hey, bulldog



   

                   

What do you say?

Sing it.



   

                   

Do you know any more?



   

                   

Playit!



   

                   

Hey, bulldog



   

                   

Jeremy, can it be you?



   

                   

Can it be me? I think you'd better

inquire ofthe guards,



   

                   

for when I was captured,

they took all my cards.



   

                   

Shh, that's enough, Jeremy.



   

                   

- The whole world's being attacked.

- What do you want me to do?



   

                   

Do you recommend fisticuffs

versus the guard?



   

                   

Oh, guard!



   

                   

Blue Meanio!



   

                   

Left to the nostril, right uppercut,

right to the eyebrow, left to the gut.



   

                   

Jeremy!



   

                   

Come on, Ringo!



   

                   

Get back! Get back!



   

                   

Once more unto the breach,

dear Meanies!



   

                   

You're advancing the wrong way!

Retreat backwards!



   

                   

Get back there now!



   

                   

My kingdom for a horse!



   

                   

I think I'll tear him up

into little pieces.



   

                   

- He does, does he?

- I think I'll make a blueburger out of him.



   

                   

Ha-ha, I don't care what you think.



   

                   

You don't, eh?



   

                   

We'll soon see about that.



   

                   

He does in truth seem quite annoyed,



   

                   

some reference material

before I'm destroyed.



   

                   

Where ground is soft most often grows,



   

                   

Arise, arise, arouse, a rose.



   

                   

A rosy nose?



   

                   

Speak your last piece!



   

                   

Peace, peace,

supplant the doom and the gloom.



   

                   

Turn offwhat is sour,

turn into a flower and bloom, bloom.



   

                   

Ha-ha, bloom, ha-ha, bloom,

bloom, bloom...



   

                   

First time I saw that Nowhere Man,

that nobody, I knew he was somebody.



   

                   

You're right.

Hello there, blue people.



   

                   

Won't you join us?

Buck up, and otherwise go mingle.



   

                   

- What do you say?

- Max?



   

                   

Your Blue...



   

                   

I mean, your Newness!



   

                   

It's no longer a blue world, Max.

Where could we go?



   

                   

Argentina?



   

                   

Are you with us?



   

                   

Will you join?



   

                   

- Shall we?

- No!



   

                   

Yes, your Newness!



   

                   

- Yes, Max...

- Yes.



   

                   

Oh, yes is a word with a glorious ring,

A true, universal, euphonious thing.



   

                   

In genders embracing

and chasing of blues,



   

                   

the very best word

for the whole world to use. Ha-ha!



   

                   

Yes, let us mix, Max.



   

                   

I've never admitted it before, but

my cousin is the Bluebird of Happiness.



   

                   

It's all too much



   

                   

When llook into your eyes,

Yourlove is there forme



   

                   

And the more lgo inside,

the more there is to see



   

                   

It's all too much forme to take



   

                   

The love that's shining all aroundhere



   

                   

All the worldis birthday cake,

So take a piece butnot too much



   

                   

Nice to have the time

to take this opportunity



   

                   

Time forme to look atyou,

andyou to look atme



   

                   

It's all too much forme to see



   

                   

The love that's shining all aroundyou



   

                   

Everywhere, it's whatyou make



   

                   

For us to take, it's all too much



   

                   

It's too much



   

                   

- Catchy tune, that.

- I can't seem to get it out of my head.



   

                   

- Then shake it.

- That's what we've been doing all night.



   

                   

Yeah, it was a great party.



   

                   

And we brought back lots of lovely

souvenirs. Here is the motor.



   

                   

- I've got a little love.

- And I've got a hole in my pocket.



   

                   

A hole?



   

                   

Half a hole, anyway.

I gave the rest to Jeremy.



   

                   

What can he do with half a hole?



   

                   

Fix it to keep his mind from wandering.



   

                   

Look at John, will you?



   

                   

What's the matter, John?

Blue Meanies?



   

                   

Newer and bluer Meanies

have been sighted



   

                   

within the vicinity ofthis theatre.

There's only one way to go out.



   

                   

- How's that?

- Singing.











  

 
Special help by SergeiK