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