The Song We Were Singing
A one act play - imagining Paul McCartney and John Lennon writing the song "She Loves You."
Photo - Mike McCartney
(Author’s note. When I wrote this, I was guilelessly unaware of song usage rights in stage productions, especially as they pertain to Beatles songs. A single usage, in staging a play in a small town theater, is, one finds out, beyond the reach financially of any such theater. However, I put this play up here online for general enjoyment, and for anyone having the where-with-all to stage it, perhaps on the screen. All rights to the play, as I note below, belong to me.)
The Song We Were Singing
Screenplay
by William Routhier
The Song We Were Singing © 2022 All Rights Reserved
gtwnwriter@aol.com
****
Characters
PAUL McCartney – 21 years old, Beatle
JOHN Lennon – 22 years old, Beatle
JAMES McCartney – 61 years old, PAUL’s Father
(Note – actor playing PAUL must play left handed guitar, actor playing JOHN must play right handed guitar.)
INT - The MCCARTNEY HOME, FORTHLIN RD. LIVERPOOL,
JULY 27, 1963, EARLY EVENING
A room on the first floor of a modest house, just off the kitchen, with two plain wooden chairs, a small, low bureau, a large window with drapes, and a crucifix on the wall.
A door to the right.
(Reference – Carpool Karaoke video, Paul McCartney w/James Corden)
A young man is in the room (PAUL MCCARTNEY) wearing a white sport shirt and black tight trousers, black shoes, his acoustic guitar is leaning against one of the chairs. Footsteps are
PAUL
(before the person enters)
Hullo.
A young man comes in the room, through the doorway,(JOHN LENNON) carrying a guitar case. He’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater, tight white trousers, black boots and has on heavy black rimmed eyeglasses. He sets the guitar case down.
JOHN
Anticipating me, are you?
You’re always anticipating me, Paul.
PAUL
Am I, John?
JOHN
You know you are.
(comically, with exaggerated Liverpudlian accent)
Grrreeeetings, Paul.
PAUL
Hi ho. Boiling up water for tea.
JOHN
There’s a nice house frau…
The tea kettle whistles.
PAUL
Ah, it’s boiling already.
JOHN
(in feigned effeminate aristocratic voice)
A spot of tea would be lovely…
PAUL goes out of the room. JOHN sits on a chair, stage right, facing ¾ view toward audience. Takes his guitar out of its case and is strumming the first few chords for “She Loves You.” PAUL soon comes back in with two cups of tea. He sets one on each end of the bureau.
JOHN
What was that chord at the end
of the beginning?
PAUL
Hey, that’s good – “the end of
the beginning…” write that down.
JOHN
I’ll remember it. Or Ringo will
say it on his own. This chord…
JOHN strums the opening chords, stopping where the words would be on the last Yeah of the last set of Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah’s in the first, opening chorus, as in the arrangement of the recording. The ‘Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ haven’t been written into the song yet.
JOHN
That one there.
PAUL
G six.
JOHN
Remind me again.
Paul picks up his guitar, sits on his chair, left of JOHN, ¾ facing audience, their guitars a mirror image. He shows JOHN the fingering of the chord. JOHN strums it.
JOHN
Oh is that all? It’s an easy one.
PAUL
They’re all easy once you know them.
JOHN
I hate not knowing something, you
know me, insecure child. Tea then!
They both put the guitars aside, get up and take a cup of tea, then sit on their respective chairs, sipping.
JOHN
Nice cup, makes you proud to be
an Englishman.
PAUL
My mum taught me how.
JOHN
To be an Englishman?
PAUL
(smiling)
To make a cup of tea.
JOHN
Mimi taught me, but I always forget.
Is it bag first or water first?
PAUL
Bag first. It’s controversial though.
You should hear my aunties go on about it.
Two minutes at the most and done.
JOHN
(in older man’s voice)
You’ve done a good job of it, lad.
PAUL
(sipping, long pause)
I remember her a lot, Mum Mary.
She comes to me, you know, in
dreams and such.
JOHN
(sips, says nothing)
PAUL
Dad misses her much, I can tell,
though he always keeps things
cheery around here.
JOHN
(sips, says nothing, then)
Eh, Paul?
PAUL
Yes, John?
JOHN
Might we take the wriggling and
tortured Jeepers Crispies down off
the wall while we work?
PAUL
It was me mum’s.
JOHN
I know, Paul. I do understand,
but you see… I can’t write with him
looking over me shoulder, all
anguished and dripping.
PAUL
(sighs)
Ok, John, I’ll take it down…
PAUL takes the crucifix down and puts it in the bureau
drawer – sits back on his chair, then, cheekily, waving
his finger -
…but some day you’re going to pay
for it, you know, Lennon. Denying
Jesus his bit. Just like you, he
wants to be heard.
JOHN
Yeah, christ, they’ll probably
crucify me.
PAUL
(laughing)
Better watch out. I agree,
though. Images of torture
and violence can be rather
disturbing, even religious ones.
JOHN
(dryly, stressing ‘especially’)
Especially religious ones.
(then, in a comic, agitated voice)
And yes! I agree also, completely
and posthumously. I oppose all
forms of horrific and meanly
nasty things, and will swiftly
inflict upon all those who do
such things equally horrible nastiness.
JOHN leans over and pounds the bureau.
Smash ‘em all to bits!
PAUL
(German salute)
Heil Lennon!
JOHN
(German salute)
Heil me!
They both break up in laughter.
PAUL
(wistfully)
Ah, Hamburg…
JOHN
(In an old man’s voice)
Ah yes, McCartney, those were the days,
eh, old mate. I have such warm tender
places in me heart for the strippers
and the boy-girls and the drunken
sailors puking and wanting to beat
us to death…
(back to normal voice)
…and of us playing seven or eight
hours a day until we were out of
our fuggin’ minds on pills and beer
and our fingers bled.
(pause)
but… chop chop, can’t be forever
nostalgic, can we? Can’t live in
the past.
(louder)
Onward pagan soldiers – money to be
made, worlds to be conquered!
PAUL
Songs to be sung.
PAUL puts his tea on the bureau and picks up his guitar.
JOHN
(does the same)
It’s a good one, this, I think.
PAUL
Yeah, a rouser. Needs those finishing touches.
You’ve got the words so far?
JOHN
Right here.
JOHN takes a sheet of paper out of his guitar case.
JOHN
One verse, we got. It was a good idea,
yours, to make it about another bloke.
PAUL
Yeah, being a good mate, helpful like.
I don’t know another song like that.
It just came to me, trying to help
work it out for your mate…
JOHN
(dryly)
I said it was good, Paul… Me myself,
I don’t tend write about anyone but
me, myself.
PAUL
Which you do rather well.
(sips his tea)
Great show last night.
JOHN
It was majestic.
PAUL
(laughing)
Yes, a majestic show at the old
Majestic.
JOHN
Ahh, yes the memories cumm rushing
back like it was only yesterday.
Strums the chords again.
PAUL
Well… from the top then.
(counts off 1-2-3-4)
They both sing in unison to the opening chords. She Loves You, three times without the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s. In place of them, PAUL plays a descending guitar part, the melody to the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s. They continue the song, first verse to the words, ‘she loves you, and you know you should be glad.’ PAUL stops.
PAUL
Hey, what about a woo here?
JOHN
(dryly, humorously)
Which sort of woo PAUL? We’ve
used “woooos” before you know.
Don’t want to be repeating ourselves
and being redundant.
PAUL
Can’t have too many woos.’ High up
there woo, like “From Me to You.”
PAUL hits a chord and sings “Wooo.’ Then he sings, ‘she loves you, and you know you should be glad, ‘Woooooo!’
JOHN joins on the dual ‘woo.’ They stop and smile.
JOHN
I like it.
PAUL
Good then, woo it is.
JOHN
Another woo. Just the thing to
make all the little girlies squeal.
PAUL
Exactly.
(in a smarmy broadcaster’s voice)
‘The Beatles, guaranteed more girly
squeals per song than any other pop group.’
JOHN
And the most moist panties too…
PAUL
Can’t say that on the radio.
JOHN
Prudes, they’re all a gaggle of prudes.
PAUL
(thinks a second)
A proper of prudes.
JOHN
(laughs loudly)
Hah! Good one, McCartney!
PAUL
Why is it do you think they’re
all still so stiff upper and tight?
JOHN
(loudly)
Tradition!
(dryly)
They didn’t listen to Elvis.
PAUL
Or Little Richard.
They both look at each other, smile then in unison sing the high “woo!’
PAUL
Ah Richard. We owe him so much.
JOHN
Everything and more.
PAUL
Another good one, John! Remember it?
JOHN turns over the piece of paper, takes a pen out his pocket and writes it down.
JOHN
Just in case.
Paul begins strumming the song’s chords again.
Let’s put the woo in after the
second verse first.
Both JOHN and PAUL are deadpan for the next several lines, until they take their tea.
JOHN
First after the second verse?
PAUL
Or after second verse first,
you decide.
JOHN
I say first after the second verse,
without any doubt.
PAUL
I completely agree, JOHN.
JOHN
Good. We’re in agreement, are we?
PAUL
Completely.
JOHN
Then I have to agree then.
PAUL
(nodding seriously)
Pretty muuuch.
They put their guitars to the side, then each go to the bureau to get their cups of tea, and sit. PAUL looks at the spot where the crucifix was, gets a pensive look.
PAUL
It’s still hard for me to think
about me mum. Is it hard still to
think about Julia?
JOHN
(pauses)
Yes…
(long pause)
It was such shit piece of work.
Some idiot bobbie runs over me
fuckin mum. Just when we were
getting back together, you know?
PAUL
If you talk sometimes it makes
it better.
JOHN
I can’t you know. For me, talking
doesn’t make it better, it makes it worse.
PAUL
(looks at JOHN)
I wonder, sumtimes, if there’s
really a god, like where was he
when me mum got cancer, if he’s
all powerful and such.
JOHN
Or when Julia got hit.
PAUL
You’ve got say he’s hands off
as far as the day to day. Makes
me think there’s no such thing.
JOHN
(reflectively)
But stuff like nature… and mathematics…
and the A note, A 440, tuned to the
same vibration wherever you go in the
universe, it’s still A 440, even if
they call it something else. It’s too
perfect to have happened by accident.
PAUL
So where’s God then, fallen asleep? …
JOHN
It must have been tiring to do all
that creating bit.
PAUL
On the 7th day he rested. We must
still be on the seventh day.
JOHN
It’d be nice if he woke up soon.
PAUL
I don’t think he’s a he.
JOHN
A she then?
PAUL
(laughing)
No. Not a person, more like a
thing, an energy. When I write
a song sometimes it comes out
of nowhere, like it wasn’t me,
like there’s a great songwriter
in the sky givin’ ‘em to me.
JOHN
Not me. I have to labor with
the bastards to get ‘em to life.
PAUL
But you know what I mean, that
inspiration thing, you get it too,
I’ve seen ya. I think that’s it,
god or whatever. There’s this
intelligent something behind it all,
but it’s not someone… it’s more of
a gigantic floating brain.
JOHN
Well, Paul, too bad we’re The Beatles.
We could have called ourselves the
Gigantic Floating Brains.
PAUL
Might make the fans think we’re
a bit big-headed.
They both laugh, going into giggling almost uncontrollably.
JOHN
God please help me, I can’t
stop laughing!
They quiet down.
JOHN
Well then.
They both put their cups back on the bureau.
PAUL
From the top?
JOHN counts it off slowly, stretching each word, similar to the beginning of the Beatle’s song Taxman.
one… two… three… four…
They sing the song again, just one verse, with the woo’s, but without the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s. They finish, holding the last chord for until it fades.
JOHN
We put the woo after the first verse.
PAUL
We’ve got only one verse yet.
JOHN
Well that must be why.
PAUL
(smiling)
Smashing song, eh?
JOHN
You’ve got a number one, boys!
PAUL
I think they do!
JOHN
George is going to like this one.
Harrison, I mean.
PAUL
Why do you say that?
JOHN
Because of that six chord. He likes
those sorts of different chords.
PAUL
(JOHN and PAUL are deadpan for
the next six lines)
He does. But it’s actually the fourth
chord, counting from the very beginning –
to the end of the beginning, that is.
JOHN
I didn’t realize that, Paul.
PAUL
Yes. Fourth.
Plays the first four chords, humming the melody, exaggerating the last one.
See?
JOHN
I see. The sixth is the fourth.
PAUL
Yes, it is.
JOHN
Well, I’m sure George will like
either one.
PAUL
I sure he will.
JOHN
I’ve finished me tea.
PAUL
Another?
JOHN
I think that was implied, Paul.
PAUL
Right then.
JOHN
I’ll make it this time. Bag first.
PAUL
Right. Two minutes.
JOHN goes out to boil water and make tea. PAUL strums chords. The whistle soon blows on the kettle, and JOHN comes in with two cups. Hands one to PAUL, and sits with his. They sip.
JOHN
Do you know what Eppy said to me
the other day?
PAUL
How cute he thought you were?
JOHN
(laughing, then grimacing, then in a campy, effeminate voice)
You know I’m not that way!
PAUL
(grinning)
What did he say then?
JOHN
He said if we break through in
America like we have here, we
could be as big as Elvis.
PAUL
(astonished)
No! He said that?
JOHN
Yes Brian did. I was very
surprised too. He’s realistic.
PAUL
Big as Elvis…
They’re both silent, with serious faces, looking at each other.
JOHN
Can you imagine?
PAUL
I can’t.
JOHN
(smiling tightly)
I can.
JOHN goes into an exaggerated imitation of Elvis singing the beginning of Hound Dog.
You ain’t ah nothin but a hound
dog, cah-rying all the time.
PAUL
(takes the next line, similar imitation)
You ain’t ah nothin but a hound dog,
cah-rying all the time.
They finish singing the next line together, with PAUL doing harmony.
JOHN & PAUL
You ain’t never caught a rabbit –
and you ain’t you no friend of mine!
JOHN beats out the drum break to Hound Dog on his guitar.
JOHN
Just think if we ever met him.
PAUL
I don’t think I could say anything.
I’d stand there like a mute.
JOHN
Of course you wouldn’t, you’d be
running your mouth off like always.
PAUL
You too.
JOHN
That would make it easier.
George and Ringo too.
PAUL
The Beatles meet the King.
JOHN
(pausing, then dryly)
The King meets The Beatles.
PAUL
I’d love to hear Ella Fitzgerald
doing us.
JOHN
Are you daft, man?
PAUL
No. That would mean we’re legit
composers. Like Rodgers and Hart.
The Gershwins.
JOHN
(staring at PAUL)
I’d rather be Lenin and Marx.
Vlad and Groucho, that is.
PAUL
Come on, you wouldn’t want
immortality?
JOHN
I don’t and I wouldn’t. Seems
unnecessarily burdensome. Leave
that for fuckin’ gods. I’m more
interested in the here and the now,
and the next one, the moment that
always comes right after the one
you were in before, full of
possibilities and interesting
things because you can control it,
can’t you? Leave the wax figures
for the wax figures.
PAUL
Now you’re stealing from Jesus –
‘Let the dead bury the dead!’
JOHN
(stunned look)
Really? I swear I never heard that
one. That’s quite good!
PAUL
Bollocks.
JOHN
Honest.
Turns aside and gives a knowing, impish grin.
PAUL
All right then, enough daydreaming,
back to work.
JOHN
(in a creaky old man’s voice)
You’re a harsh taskmaster, McCartney,
you are.
PAUL
Hey John, how else are we gonna
meet Elvis?
JOHN
(in an exaggerated British upper class accent)
Very good point you have there.
Right, back to the grindstone, then.
PAUL begins strumming the “She Loves You” section and playing the descending melody.
JOHN
What about that back and forth
bit you had?
PAUL
I thought we didn’t like it.
You in particular.
JOHN
I’m not always as particular as
I sometimes am. And nothin’s finally
decided until it’s decided, finally.
PAUL
The “Yeah yeah,” bit.
JOHN
Right. Let’s try that. But we
all sing it together, and three
times, we only had two last time.
They sing “She loves you, yeah yeah yeah” three times.
JOHN
(broadly smiling)
Bloody hell! It works, Paulie.
JOHN sits a moment, eyes focused away, on the wall.
JOHN
Listen to this.
JOHN sings “She loves you, yeah, yeah yeah,” and adds the last extended “yeah,” on the G sixth chord)
PAUL
Perfect!
JOHN
It’s gonna be a hook, son,
everyone singing along, Yeah
yeah yeah. I can hear it.
PAUL
In adverts! The Beatles,
Yeah yeah yeah!
JOHN
You can’t possibly get more upbeat
than three “Yeahs” in a row.
PAUL
Four, with your new one.
JOHN
Well, I must consider me corrected
then.
PAUL
Four “Yeahs,” four Beatles.
JOHN
The significance is positively cosmic.
PAUL
(Sips his tea)
My tea’s gone all cold.
JOHN
Well, PAUL, it won’t make itself,
now, will it?
PAUL
(sips again)
Not bad, innit, cold? Different taste.
JOHN
Mr. Sunshine and cold cup half full.
(sips his, says bitingly)
Mine tastes of disappointment.
PAUL
Oh get off it, we don’t really
have much to be disappointed about.
Not lately anyway.
JOHN
(silent for a long pause)
Well I’ve got a baby at home,
mate, who I don’t see, cause
I’m a Beatle and it’s rush rush
go go stuff to do concerts, here
there everywhere. I wasn’t even
at the hospital when he was born,
not till three days after.
(brightening)
He’s bloody fantastic he is, though.
I want to be a real father to him,
like mine wasn’t for me.
PAUL
(nods)
I understand.
JOHN
You don’t though, and you can’t,
not till you’ve got one yourself.
You’ll be a good dad… I’ve seen
how you are with kids. I’m not.
I don’t know how to do it. Not
having had the love meself as
a child.
PAUL
You’ll be great. Just be you
and give him love like you would
have wanted.
JOHN
Love’s the thing, isn’t it?
PAUL
In the end, it’s all we need, really.
JOHN
And money. And rock and roll.
PAUL
Yes. Well, John, I’m not myself
thinking of having kids any time
soon, you know. I’m waiting to find
my real love, not just these birds.
Like you and Cyn.
JOHN
I do love her. But I wonder sometimes.
If she’s the real one… we rushed into
it. For the baby.
PAUL
Oh no, mate, you’re great together.
JOHN
(halfheartedly)
Yeah, I imagine we are…
PAUL
I suppose I’d fancy a brood of
kids someday.
JOHN
(extending the word)
A broooood.
PAUL
(repeating)
A broooood.
JOHN
A brood of squealin’ munchkins
runnin’ and shoutin’ and breakin’ everything.
PAUL
A proper improper brood.
JOHN
That’s right, bring ‘em up as
earth shakers!
PAUL
Shake, rattle and roll, shaking
rattles and rolling on the ground.
JOHN
(in a thin voice)
Crawling Baby Beatles.
PAUL
Enough. We’ve lyrics yet to
write, lad.
JOHN
Work work, money money. I’ve got
the sheet here.
JOHN pulls up the sheet of paper.
JOHN
We need a second verse. I’ll
refresh us on the first again.
(reads)
…you think you’ve lost your love,
well I saw her yesterday. It’s you
she’s thinking of, and she told me
what to say, she said she loves you…
you know it can’t be be bad, you
should be glad…
PAUL
Right. It’s good like that. So
now, what did he do? He fogged
it up.
JOHN
(laughs)
Fogge d it up. Brilliant, that.
He put a fog over it, and now
they can’t see.
PAUL
I’m brilliant even when I’m
not trying.
JOHN
Ringo’s rubbing off on ya.
PAUL
We can’t use it though.
Because of the sound alike.
JOHN
One day. Ahh, let’s see, then,
shall we… well, he hurt her, so…
PAUL
Good there! “She said you hurt
her so…”
JOHN
(pauses)
“She almost lost her mind.”
PAUL
Great! “But now she said she
knows…” that he’s all right
after all.
JOHN
“You’re not the hurtin’ kind.”
PAUL
(points to the sheet)
Off to press! Write it!
JOHN writes the verse on the sheet, stops, pauses a long moment, thinking.
JOHN
Well, I’ve got the third then.
“You know it’s up to you,
I think it’s only fair.”
PAUL
Yes! He’s counseling his mate!
JOHN
(nods)
“Pride can hurt you too,
apologize to her.”
PAUL
(with a grin)
Why apologize, JOHN?
JOHN
(sings)
Because she luvs you…
PAUL
(sings next line)
And you know that can’t
be bad…
JOHN
I think we’re dun.
PAUL
Write the last one down.
JOHN writes on the sheet.
PAUL
Jolly good. Should we play it
for my dad then? See what he thinks.
JOHN
Sure. Woo’s after second verse.
One more look at the words.
They pull their chairs beside each other and look the lyrics over for a minute or so. Then they nod, pick up their guitars and go into the living room.
INT – Living room
McCartney house living room, a modest room, JAMES MCCARTNEY is sitting in a large chair reading a newspaper, smoking a cigarette. PAUL and JOHN walk in.
PAUL
Hey Dad.
JAMES
Hello, boys.
PAUL
We’ve just written a new one,
want to hear it?
JAMES
(Putting the paper down)
Yes, indeed.
PAUL and JOHN are standing beside each other, their guitars on straps. PAUL counts it in, 1-2-3-4 and they sing “She Loves You” in the arrangement we know.
PAUL
Well? Wu’d you think?
JAMES
Nice boys, very nice. But aren’t
there enough of these Americanisms
around? Couldn’t you sing,
“She loves you. Yes! Yes! Yes!”
PAUL and JOHN break out laughing.
PAUL
Dad, you don’t get it! We think
we’ll keep it this way.
JAMES
Up to you, boys, of course
END
The Paul McCartney song, from the album Flaming Pie,
“The Song We Were Singing,” plays over the credits.