Yellow Submarine 6

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. 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. 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. 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?

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Yellow Submarine 6

Lucy in the sky with diamonds

Picture yourself in a boat

A holey sea

Thanks. Gosh, look at all this dust? Where did it come from? A chemical error and quite imprecise. This is 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. 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. 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. 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? 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. Lord Mayor, sir... I've made it. I'm back. Who's this? Our Lord Mayor. Even a little snatch of a tune might get him up again. All right, let's sing. Have you got time to rectify. Do I hear music? Do I see young Fred? Bless my metronome. And did you bring help? 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. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. They couldn't be much with a name like that. Sergeant Pepper? You could impersonate them. Where are your instruments? Lost. We'll get other instruments, Lord Mayor. Not a chance. The Meanies captured everything that market music. They hate music that much, does them? They shrink at the very sound. Okay, you guys. It's shrinking time in Pepperland.