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Zulu
Once upon a time
or maybe twice, there was an unearthly paradise called
Pepperland.
80,000 leagues beneath the sea it lay,
or lie, I'm not too sure.
Pepperland is a tickle of joy on the blue belly of the 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!
4 scores and 32 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? In that event, yes.
Hurry, Young Fred. Go! Get help!
Where should I go?
No time for trivialities.
In the town where I was born
Lived a man who sailed to sea
And he told us of his life
In the land of submarines
So we sailed on to the sun
Till we found the sea of green
And we lived beneath 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 our friends are all aboard
Many more of them live next door
And the band begins 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 speed ahead, Mr. Boatswain. Full speed ahead.
Full speed it is, sir.
Action stations! Action stations!
Aye, sir, aye.
Captain, Captain!
As we live a life of ease
Every one of us has all we need
Sky of blue and sea of green
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 at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people
Eleanor Rigby
Picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door
Who is it for?
All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
Father McKenzie, writing the words of a sermon that no-one will hear
No-one comes near
Look at him working, darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there
What does he care?
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people
Eleanor Rigby, died in the church and was buried along with her name
Nobody came
Father McKenzie, wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave
No-one was saved
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
Woe... is me.
Liverpool can be a lonely place on a Saturday night.
And this is only Thursday morning.
Compared with my life, Eleanor Rigby's was a gay, mad whirl.
Nothing ever happens to me.
I feel like 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 of them unidentified flying cupcakes
or a figment of my imagination.
But I don't have an imagination.
Help, help, help!
Thanks, I don't need any.
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 of these? - 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 of you.
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, if you 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 of those 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 of that?
- Well, I think that... - As a matter of fact, I...
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 if you'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 I have a little more?
Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten
I love you
A, B, C, D
Can I bring my friend to tea?
E, F, G, H, l, J
I love you
Sail the ship
Chop the tree
Skip the rope
Look at me
All together now
All together now (all together now), all together now (all together now)
All together now (all together now), all together now
Black, white, green, red
Can I take my friend to bed?
Pink, brown, yellow, orange and blue
I love you (All together now)
All together now (all together now), all together now (all together now)
All together now,
All together now (all together now), all together now (all together now)
All together now (all together now), all together now (all together now)
All together now
Sail the ship
Chop the tree
Skip the rope
Look at me
All together now
All together now (all together now), all together now (all together now)
All together now (all together now), all together now (all together now)
All together now (all together now), all together now (all together now)
All together now (all together now), all together now (all together now)
All together now!
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 half feel funny. - You're not half the 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?
If we 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 of fellas.
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 I get older, losing my hair
Many years from now
Will you still be sending me a valentine
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine
If I'd been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four?
You'll be older, too
And if you say the word
I could stay with you
I could be handy mending a fuse
When your lights have gone
You can knit a sweater by the fiireside
Sunday mornings, go for a ride
Doing the garden, digging the weeds
Who could ask for more?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four?
Every summer we can rent a cottage in the Isle of Wight, if it's not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee, Vera, Chuck and Dave
Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away
Give me your answer, fiill in a form, mine forever more
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
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.
If you're listening to this song
You may think the chords are going wrong
But they're not
He just wrote it like that
When you're listening late at night
You may think the band are not quite right
But they are
They just play it like that
It doesn't really matter what chords I play
What words I say or time of day it is
Cause it's only a Northern Song
It doesn't really matter what clothes I wear
Or how I fare or if my hair is brown
When it's only a Northern Song
If you think the harmony
Is a little dark and out of key
You're correct
There's nobody there
And I told you 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 of whales.
- They look a bit old for school. - University, then.
- University of Whales. - 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 of the 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 I?
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 of them angry young men. - Or a daffy old creep.
l, 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 19th 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 real Nowhere Man
Sitting in his Nowhere Land
Making all his Nowhere plans for nobody
Doesn't have a point of view, Knows not where he's going to
Isn't he a bit like you and me
Nowhere Man, please listen, You don't know what you're missing
Nowhere Man, the world is at your command
He's as blind as he can be, Just sees what he wants to see
Nowhere Man, can you see me at all?
Nowhere Man, don't worry, Take your time, don't hurry
Leave it all till somebody else lends you a hand
# Doesn't have a point of view, Knows not where he's going to
Isn't he a bit like you and me
Nowhere Man, please listen, You don't know what you're missing
Nowhere Man, the world is at your command
He's a real Nowhere Man, Sitting in his nowhere land
Making all his Nowhere plans for nobody
Making all his Nowhere plans for nobody
Making all his Nowhere plans for nobody
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, if you 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 awfully 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 of the 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 of what? - The foothills of the headlands.
Picture yourself in a boat on a river
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes
Cellophane flowers of yellow and green
Towering over your head
Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes and she's gone
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain
Where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies
Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers
That grow so incredibly high
Newspaper taxis appear on the shore
Waiting to take you away
Climb in the back with your head in the clouds and you're gone
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Picture yourself on a train in a station
With Plasticine porters with looking glass ties
Suddenly someone is there at the turnstile
The girl with kaleidoscope eyes
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Lucy in 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? Is 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 of them 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 of Green...
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 of the 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, if you 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 of three... A-one, a-two, a-three...
It was twenty years ago today, Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play
They've been going in and out of style, But they're guaranteed to raise a smile
So may I introduce to you, The act you've known for all 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
Sit back and let 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'd like to take you home with us
We'd love to take you home
I don't really wanna stop the show, But I thought you might like to know
That the singer's gonna sing a song, And he wants you all to sing along
So let me introduce to you, The one and only Billy Shears
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
Billy
Shears!
What would you think if I sang out of tune?
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song
And I'll try not to sing out of key
- The hills are alive... - ...with the sound of music.
Who is responsible for this?
Rimsky Korsakov?
Guy Lombardo?
My dear friend...
let 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 nothing you can do that can't be done
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy
All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love, Love is all you need
Nothing you can know that isn't known, Nothing you can see that isn't shown
There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be
It's easy
All you need is love, (All together now)
All you need is love, (Everybody)
All you need is love, love, Love is all you need
All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is 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 of taking 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 of fact
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 it again
Some kind of happiness is measured out in miles
What makes you think you're something special when you smile?
Childlike... no-one understands
Jacknife... in your sweaty hands
Some kind of innocence is measured out in years
You don't know what it's like to listen to your fears
You can talk to me, You can talk to me
You can talk to me... if you're lonely you can talk to me
Big man... walking in the park
Wigwam... frightened of the dark
Some kind of solitude is measured out in you
You think you know me but you haven't got a clue
You can talk to me, You can talk to me
You can talk to me... if you'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?
Play it!
Hey, bulldog
Jeremy, can it be you?
Can it be me? I think you'd better inquire of the 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 off what 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 I look into your eyes, Your love is there for me
And the more I go inside, the more there is to see
It's all too much for me to take
The love that's shining all around here
All the world is birthday cake, So take a piece but not too much
Nice to have the time to take this opportunity
Time for me to look at you, and you to look at me
It's all too much for me to see
The love that's shining all around you
Everywhere, it's what you 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 of this theatre. There's only one way to go out.
- How's that? - Singing.
One... two... three... four
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven, eight, nine, ten
A
B
C
D
E
F
G, H, l, J
All together now...
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