All language subtitles for The.Last.of.the.Blonde.Bombshells.2000.1080p.WEBRip.x265-RARBG2_English

Woman:
I hate those stories
that begin with a funeral.

But I'm afraid this one started
the day we buried George.

Not that we buried him.

In the interests
of the environment,

we had him incinerated.

My children conducted
the service.

They believe in
the environment.

But they don't believe
in priests or vicars.

Our father died
playing golf.

On the long 15th,

but right in the middle
of the fairway.

We thank him for being
a terrific father...

and grandfather.

It was his wish
that we invite you all

to raise a glass
to his memory

in the clubhouse
after the ceremony.

And it was also his wish

that he should
leave us accompanied

by some of the music
he loved best.

(click)

♪ For I am the Pirate King ♪

♪ He is
Hurrah for the Pirate King ♪

♪ And it is, it is
a glorious thing
to be a Pirate King ♪

♪ For I am the Pirate King ♪

♪ You are
Hurrah for the Pirate King ♪

♪ And it is,
it is a glorious thing
to be a Pirate... ♪

Are you all right?

As well as
can be expected.

If you want to cry,
go ahead.

I just hate
this fucking tune.

(swing music playing)

♪ I'll be glad when you're gone,
you rascal, you ♪

(whooping, cheering)

♪ I'll be glad when
you're gone, you rascal, you ♪

♪ When you're dead
and your grave cold ♪

♪ No more women
will you crave ♪

♪ I'll be glad
when you're gone ♪

♪ Glad when you're gone ♪

♪ Glad when you're gone,
you rascal, you ♪

Can't hang about.

Apparently they have one
of these every 20 minutes

at this time of year.

Well, who's gonna
tell her?

I'll go.

(chuckling, sniffing)

What was that
about the music?

Well, when I was 15,
we lived near a dance hall

and there was a band.

And some girls used
to sing a song called

"I'll Be Glad
When You're Dead,
You Rascal, You."

Never heard of it.

And when they
started to play

that sentimental rubbish
in the crematorium,

I shut my ears
and that's what I heard.

Together:
"I'll Be Glad When You're Dead,
You Rascal, You."

Yes, and I got
a bit of the giggles,
I'm very ashamed.

Was Grandpa a rascal?

No.

He was anything but.

You may disagree, but--

No, I know
what you mean.

But he was kind,
wasn't he?

I mean, he would always
pat me on the head

and give me a pound.

You and me both,
sweetheart.

You all right now?

Can you cope
with the wake?

Of course I can, dear.

Lead me
to the golfers.

(giggles)

Man (on radio):
This is the BBC General
Forces program.

London suffered
the heaviest bombardment

since the 1940-41 blitz
last night in German air raids

over the capital.

About 175 enemy planes made
scattered and indiscriminate

attacks on London,
the Home Counties,

southeast England
and East Anglia.

London's guns were,
again, in action.

And the heaviest
barrels of the war

was put up to counter
when enemies attack.

(radio continues)

Sorry. (indistinct)

There you are,
keep the change.

Cheers, love.
Have a good day.

(horn honks)

(guitar music playing)

(children chattering)

Oh! (groans)

(playing rock riff)

So, uh...

have you made
any plans, Mum?

I think I'll go
for the creme brulee.

Oh, no, uh...

I didn't mean
about the pudding.

I meant...

Oh, life after death.

Well, yes, I suppose so.

Well, life goes on much as it
did when your father was alive.

I still go to the library
twice a week.

I still watch the quiz programs
on television every afternoon.

Sometimes I get
the answers right.

I go out every Thursday
with my children

to some trendy restaurant.

And I weep when necessary.

Oh, and I look
after Joanna

when her parents want
to expand their horizons.

That's enough life for
a woman half my age.

Can you have
her on Friday?

We've got tickets
to "The Magic Flute."

Fine, I'll cancel
my darts night.

You don't play darts.

(laughing)

Oh, isn't that lovely?

Edward:
What?

If your pulse doesn't
quicken when you hear

Hoagy Carmichael's
"Stardust,"

then I have clearly
failed as a mother.

(sighs)

Thank you for lunch,
my children.

I'll see you
next Thursday.

Do you think she's turning
into a dotty old woman?

(chuckles)

She's always done it.

You talk to her and she makes
all the right noises

but she isn't listening
to you at all.

She's listening to something
going on inside her head.

Whatever she's listening to now
is just a bit further away.

(playing "Stardust")

You're much too young
to know those tunes.

What makes you think
I know them?

You screwed up the changes
into the middle eight.

It was a good try.

You some sort
of critic?

No, don't worry.

It's only if the audience
notices you're in trouble.

(chuckles)

(humming)

Don't give up.

♪ ♪

(saxophone playing)

(saxophone continuing)

(saxophone continuing)

I didn't
see you there.

That was amazing.

Thank you.

May I touch?

Well, of course.

I didn't know.

Huh?

Remember that dance hall
I told you about?

"You Rascal, You."

Well, I played
in the band.

Did women
do that then?

What do you know
about the war?

The 1939-45?

We beat Germany
one-nil?

It was an
upside down world.

Women drove ambulances
and worked in shipyards and...

I played in a band.

We called ourselves
The Blonde Bombshells.

Were you a star?

Well, we played on
the wireless once.

You were a star.

Yes, damn it,
I was a star.

(slow swing music)

Joanna:
Grandma, why did you stop?

Elizabeth:
I stopped when
the war stopped.

Then I was a wife and a mother
and a grandmother.

It's just something
I did before I grew up.

But you carried
on playing.

Well, I used to practice

when your grandpa
was out playing golf.

But you're the first person
to hear me for--

Dear God...

nearly half a century.

That's terrible.

Joanna...

I need your advice.

I'll try.

What's the best way of
showing respect for the dead?

That's easy.
You go on living.

Mmm.

(playing swing music)

You're truly amazing.

You're too good
to be busking.

I'm too old to have
any other ambitions.

Why don't you
take half?

Look...

We play twice a week
and you buy the drinks, okay?

Okay.

I think this might
be for you.

Why?

'Cause it says,
"Fancy a bit of fun, dearie?"

Well, why should
it be for me?

If you say
'cause I'm a woman,

I'll smash you over
the head with your guitar.

My glass is empty.

Same again?

Please.
Let's have
a look at that.

Paul:
Green tea, and a pint
of Bitter, please.

Do you?

Sorry?

Fancy a bit of fun?

Do you mind?

It is Elizabeth,
isn't it?

Well, don't you remember?

Metropole Ballroom?

"Moonlight Serenade"?

"Boogie-woogie, Bugle Boy
From Company B"?

Patrick.

You see,
you do remember.

The man we were
all warned about.

Well...

At least offer me
the hand of friendship.

I might never
see it again.

(chuckles)

(soft guitar music)

If you're gonna do that,

you might as well learn
to play it properly.

I was just trying to catch
the spirit of the moment.

Are you gonna
introduce me?

Paul...

down-and-out
street musician,

Patrick, venerable friend
and war hero.

Ta. That's cool.
What did you do
in the war, Patrick?

I was a Blonde Bombshell.

♪ When you're dead
and your grave cold ♪

♪ No more women
will you crave ♪

♪ I'll be glad
when you're gone ♪

♪ Glad when you're gone ♪

♪ Glad when you're gone,
you rascal, you... ♪

Here, let me take that.

Oh!

Would you believe
I recognized
the way you play?

That sound.

Sensual, erotic.

Don't be silly.

What are you
doing around here?

The betting shop.

I'll give you a lift.

In that?

We'll drop off
at my place.

C'mon.

Well--

(sighs)

Don't worry
about all that.

It's my concessionary
parking system.

(laughing)

Whoops, you in?

Yeah.

Hello.

(indistinct radio chatter)

(radio chatter continues)

Patrick:
So, how come
a nice girl like you

is reduced to
working the streets?

Oh, it's because I said
"fuck" at George's funeral.

(Patrick laughs)

Um, I assume George is
your late, lamented husband?

Yes.

He treat you well?

Well, he was kind and decent
and generous and law abiding.

Boring?

Mind your own business.

Thought so.

(brakes squealing)

This is where you live?

Yes, it's...

Well, they call it Grace
and Favor residence.

My father had
the grace to die

and did me the favor
of leaving it to me.

Elizabeth:
Thank you.

I would be
deeply honored

if you would step
across the threshold

and let my woodworm
see you.

Hi, Patrick.
Hello, darling.

Didn't know
you had a secret.

(clearing throat)

How's the masterpiece?

Bloody arm came off.
(chuckles)

Who exactly
is "darling"?

Carol. Lodger.
Art student.

She's got a--
Man:
Tomorrow, 4:00,

Hereford,
Billie's Bounce.

Shirt.
Noted.

Ma'am.

Two artists.

Ex-jockey,
tipster in residence.

Known as The Wee Man.

And banned from every
race course in the country.

But the real glory
is to be found downstairs

in my personal crypt.

There is something
very special

that I want
to share with you.

What a surprise.

Oh, don't be silly.
I never go all the way
on the first date.

(gasps)

The same kit?
Yes.

Of course,
I remember the roses.

Do you still play?

Only when
nobody listens.

(sighs)

Patrick:
You were really pretty.

Elizabeth:
So were you.

Why did you do this?

Because working with
The Blonde Bombshells

was the happiest
time of my life.

Life's been
that bad?

Oh, I've been
to prison once,

married twice,
bankrupt three times.

Oh, ain't you got fun?
Yeah, lots of fun.

(Elizabeth chuckles softly)

Patrick:
But those were the days.

Best days.

And I'll bet you a dollar
to a donut you think so too.

Well, if I had bet
that it's like admitting

I've wasted
most of my life.

Well, go ahead, admit it.

I've wasted mine
and enjoyed
every minute of it.

Well, I can't
tell a lie.

Only recently
I was showing off

to my granddaughter
about being on
the wireless.

Oh, that was your fault

for being beautiful
and talented.

Oh, yes, I remember.

(playing slow swing song)

(applause)

Excuse me.

You do play
awfully well.

Thank you.
Is this bastard
bothering you?

I'm from the BBC.

Oh, beg your pardon.

I took you
for a civilian.
Yes.

Back to your place,
sweetheart.

BBC Man:
It's simply that I wonder
whether you and your orchestra

would be interested
in broadcasting.

I have to say that girl
plays beautifully.

She's better
than many a chap.

And a lot prettier.

And it would be
a joy and a delight

to do business with you.

Give me 30 seconds to wind
them up and set them going.

The next dance
will be a quick step.

Take it away, girls.

A one, a two,
a one, two, three, four.

(playing "Don't Sit
Under the Apple Tree")

Come to
the dressing room.

We'll compare our...

arrangements.

Patrick:
"Take it away, girls."

Nobody ever
says that now.

Elizabeth:
Long time since
we were girls.

Well, I suppose technically
speaking I never was.

You know, I've been
thinking about it

more and more
since the funeral.

We were heroic
for a while.

But nobody told us.

Right! When shall we two
meet again, Sunday lunch?

I'm taking my granddaughter
to the zoo on Sunday.

Are you still
sexually active?

What?
I love zoos.

(trumpeting)

You were the only man
in the band?

Yep. One guy
and all those chicks.

Oh, do you mind?
I'm not and never
have been a chick.

How did you
get the job?

Well, they couldn't find
a girl to play the drums.

So a quiet word
with Betty the band-leader,

two pairs of nylon stockings,
and the job was mine.

Also he was
on the run.

Also I was
on the run.

(playing mid-tempo swing music)

(no audible dialogue)

Friends of yours.

I'll be in the pub.

Mother, it doesn't
strike you that

what you're
doing is, well...

just a little bit
humiliating?

Well, you try it.

Last week we had
a request from a tourist

for the Japanese
National Anthem.

That's humiliating.

So, we gave him
"One Fine Day"
from "Madama Butterfly"

and a joke about
Pearl Harbor.

(laughing)

But it implies
that you're broke.

And that we're not looking
after you properly.

I'm not doing it
for the money.

Paul keeps the money.

It's art.
For art's sake.

Leslie:
And you do play
very nicely.

But why don't you
play as a hobby?

Whereabouts?

The old folks' home
after bingo?

Edward:
What do we
tell people?

Tell them the truth.

Tell them
the old bat's gone gaga.

Oh, tell them to
screw themselves.

Oh, Mother, for godsake!

For godsake what?

Shut up, Edward!

Believe me,
we do understand.

We know how you feel.

But you can't understand

because I don't
understand myself.

I remember
about feelings.

I remember playing in the band
in the Metropole Ballroom,

"Mairzy Doats
and Dozy Dotes,"

and knowing that
at any minute

a large bomb could
fall on my head

and blow us all
to hell and back.

And the house rules said,

"You had to finish the tune

before you went to
the air raid shelter."

And that, my children,

is how you learn
about real feelings.

I was more alive at that time
than before or since.

That's an alarming thing
to discover at my age.

I don't understand it,
I don't expect you to.

(door opens)

Here's my lift.

Mom...

What--
who's he?

My fancy man.

There appears to be
a man in her life.

Sorry to interrupt.

That man with the flowers,
who is he?

Some old transvestite
I think.

(swing music playing)

Elizabeth:
Do you know
where you're going?

Patrick:
Of course I do.

I don't remember
this tunnel.

Oh, well.

So, the Metropole Ballroom,

scene of our
youthful happiness,

is now a carpet
warehouse.

♪ A kiddley divey too ♪

♪ Wouldn't you ♪

♪ If the words
sound queer ♪

♪ And funny
to your ear ♪

♪ A little bit
jumbled and jivey ♪

♪ Sing mares eat oats ♪

♪ And does eat oats ♪

♪ And little lambs
eat ivy ♪

♪ Mairzy doats
and dozy doats ♪

♪ And little lambs
eat ivy ♪

♪ A kiddle
divey too ♪

♪ Wouldn't you ♪

♪ A kiddle
divey too ♪

♪ Wouldn't you ♪

I lied to my children.

Good.
How else can
they learn?

I told them
we went on playing

even when the bombs
were falling.

No, we didn't.
We ran like buggery
to the air raid shelter.

♪ Mairzy doats
and dozy doats ♪

♪ And little lambs
eat ivy ♪

♪ A kiddle divey too ♪

♪ Wouldn't you ♪

♪ A kiddle divey too ♪

♪ Wouldn't you ♪

Do you know what
would be lovely?

What?

To see them all again.

Don't be silly.

Maybe even to
play together.

You should be put
in a darkened room.

C'mon.

(announcer
speaking indistinctly)

(dogs barking)

(indistinct shouting)

It's brilliant
and it's all the rage.

What are you
talking about?

Reunion bands.
I mean, you've got
The Stones,

The Who, Status Quo.

All those wrinklies
from the '60s,

they're always
having reunion concerts

and going on world tours.

So, why not
The Blonde Bombshells?

So, where shall we play?

The Albert Hall,
Shea Stadium,

Hollywood Bowl?

You can play at our
next school dance.

I'm on the committee.

Let's just assume
for the sake of argument

that we track down
the survivors of the band

and prop them
up in a line.

And they play
some fragments

of ancient music,
who would listen?

I would.

BBC Announcer:
This is the BBC
General Forces program.

The BBC is proud to present
the most glamorous band

in all the land...

The Blonde Bombshells.

One, two, three, four.

Take it away--

(upbeat swing music plays)

Elizabeth:
How many cars
do you own?

Many as I can borrow.

Do we have
to do this?

Yes, we do.

Then we're gonna
need lots of flowers.

Well, we can use the money
you lost at the dogs.

(chuckles)

Elizabeth:
Vera.

Vera.

Do you remember me?

Elizabeth.

And Patrick,
you remember him.

The Blonde Bombshells
in the war.

Adolph Hitler,
Winston Churchill,
Tommy Handley.

You played the alto sax,
remember?

We sang like
the Andrews Sisters.

"Don't Fence Me In."

"Mairzy Doats
and Dozy Doats."

♪ Pardon me, boy, is that
the Chattanooga choo-choo ♪

♪ Track twenty nine ♪
Vera.

Elizabeth:
Alas, poor Vera.

Alas, poor Joan.

Oh, the roses.

How lovely.

Well, at least you
remembered us, Evelyn.

Oh, I remember you.

(door slams)

You were always pretty.

And I remember him,

he was always flash.
So, uh...

What are you in for?

(door slams)

Legal tender.

Is that an offense?

Well, getting things if you
haven't got any legal tender,

that's an offense.

Do you get to play
any music?

There's a bird,
comes in once a week.

Teaches what she calls
musical therapy.

But I never let on.

You need your secrets
in a place like this.

Thanks for the flowers,
they're lovely.

Oh, look.

A petal's fallen
off already.

Elizabeth:
Alas, poor Evelyn.

This is all
a ghastly mistake.

Guided tours of
the cemeteries of England

and goodwill missions
to the living dead.

Oh ye of little faith.

C'mon, look.

(playing slow march)

Annie.

Annie!

Two old sinners
want to say hello.
(chuckling)

Elizabeth!

And you...

You're looking good,
sister.

That's because I am good.

And how long has this
goodness been going on?

Since I dumped you, brother.

You'll find that God is much
better value in the long term.

Are you looking
for salvation?

Not exactly.
We're trying to get
the band together again.

Band?

I'm sorry, I don't play
that kind of music anymore.

It's for
my granddaughter.

It's not negotiable,
I'm sorry.

It's-- I told you,
it's a ghastly--

Oh.

Um, you got any
small change?

Sorry.
Sorry.

Well...

I've had him
checked out.

My God, you sound
like the FBI.

The man used to
run a casino.

He's an undischarged bankrupt
and he's been to prison.

I can do better than that.

She's rounding up
her geriatric
Blonde Bombshells

and threatening to play
at Joanna's school dance.

So, where would you like
to run away to today?

It's your turn
to choose.

Hastings, please.

There's racing
at Goodwood.

Yes, I know,
but I've chosen Hastings.

Betty the band leader
lives at Hastings.

She's expecting me
with a friend--

(shouts in surprise)

I'm her ex-husband
for godsake.

I know that.

I'm sure she'll be perfectly
civilized about it.

This is Betty
we're talking about.

We're going to
need a band leader.

That's reasonable,
isn't it?

I'm not very good
at reasonable.

Well, try harder.

(up-tempo piano music playing)

(seagulls calling)

(piano playing continues)

Woman:
Nice one, Betty.
Man: Yeah, go Betty!

(laughing)

(cheers and applause)

Thank you,
music lovers.

Now, in response
to many requests,

there will be a short
period of silence.

Betty.

The one and only.
(laughs)

There'll never
be another.

Oh, darling.

You haven't
changed a bit.

More than I can say
for you, you old sod.

Thanks.
Come, let's have a drink.

And something
for my friends.

Vodka and tonic, please.

Glenlivet,
little water, please.

The old gentleman
will pay.

You were the star,
you know.

You were the youngest,
the sweetest,

and the most talented of
The Blonde Bombshells.

You were also
the only virgin.

You had me to
thank for that.

Really?
Should I be grateful?

(laughing)

(slow dance music playing)

(air raid sirens wailing)

(music stops)

(indistinct chatter)

(explosion)

You frightened
or just cold?

Both.

Stay close to me,
darling.

Mr. Churchill
recommends it.

Here.

(explosion)

Actually, I've got the keys
to the boiler house.

Patrick:
It's nice and warm
in there.

Oy!

Betty--

I didn't see you there.
Elizabeth, sit.

You, here.

The girl is
15 years old.

You try anything with her,
you go to prison.

Also, I will take
my garden shears

and personally
castrate you.

All right, I can
take a hint.

When's her birthday?

(slapping)
Ow!

I don't know
why I ran a band.

Most of the girls were
a bleeding nightmare.

They were always
very nice to me.

That's because you were
young and innocent.

All right.

I'll show you something
young and innocent.

If you tell anyone about this,
I'll kill you.

You old softy.

I can still get into this,
you know, size 14, short legs.

Who was this
little girl?

What became of her?

What's it like...
long marriage?

I've only had
two little ones.

It's warm and cozy
like an old pair of shoes...

or a wet dog.

It's only after
the kids leave home,

that you realize--

Well, there are
no surprises anymore.

Hmm.

Mind you, a lot of people
don't want surprises.

Do you?

I'm not sure.

I might be developing
a taste for them.

Mm-hmm.

Elizabeth:
Betty's in Hastings,

Anna's in the arms of Jesus,

Joan's dead.

Vera's deranged.

Evelyn's in prison.

Madeleine's missing in action.

Dinah's somewhere
in the States,

and I've left numerous
messages for Gwen.

So, is there a band
or is there not a band?

I need to know what
to tell the committee.

Tell them there is no band.
Tell them to hire a magician.

We can always pay off
Evelyn's debts and get her
out of the nick.

That would make four.

What about Annie?

I know these Christians.

If they say no,
they mean it.

What about pieces
of silver?

That is a totally
evil suggestion.

So, please think about it.

(phone ringing)

Hello. Yes, speaking.

Gwen?!
Joanna:
Gwen!

I can't tell you how wonderful
it is to speak to someone

who's sane and alive
and not in custody.

Do you know the way
to Wolverhampton?

If you can whistle it...
Together:
I can play it.

(laughing)

Nobody goes to
Wolverhampton out of season.

You need passports,
malaria jabs,

sturdy boots,
an armed escort.
Don't be silly.

It'll be wonderful
to see Gwen.

No, it won't,
it'll be horrible.

♪ On the board again ♪

♪ Riding
for a fall again ♪

♪ And I'm gonna
get my all again ♪

♪ Taking a chance
on love ♪

♪ I'm feeling fine and dandy ♪

♪ I'm gonna rise
and shine again ♪

♪ I've almost lost
my mind again ♪

♪ Taking a chance
on love ♪

♪ Boy, I'm booked again ♪

She's still terrific.

I know, she was
my second wife.

Sorry?
Nothing.

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ This game,
I'm having a crack at ♪

♪ Needs good love
from me ♪

♪ So I'm taking a whack ♪

♪ At any black cat I see ♪

♪ All the breeze again ♪

♪ And though I'd love
to please again ♪

♪ I'll sing a new reprise ♪

♪ Again ♪

♪ So ring down
the curtain ♪

♪ It's love
for certain ♪

♪ I'm taking a chance ♪

♪ On love ♪

♪ Taking another
chance on love ♪

(applause)

Emcee (on microphone):
Thank you very much.

You don't
play anymore?

No, I retired when
all those trumpet players

came home from the war
wanting their jobs back.

The men.
You know what I mean.

Besides it was hard
on the lips, babe.

I stick to the singing.

No more
triple tonguing.

That ceased to be
your business long ago.

Is it your business now,
Elizabeth?

Absolutely not.

Our sole purpose is to get
the band together again.

You got a gig?

Patrick:
Mmm. First of next month.

What is it?

It's my granddaughter's
school dance.

(giggling)

A school dance?

I never played school dances
even when I was at school.

Well, we're starting
rehearsals next week.

Sweetheart, I have sung for
my supper for half a lifetime.

And I've done it all
without rehearsals.

I turn up at the gig,
I moan about the piano,

I hand out the parts,
I count the guys in
and I get on with it.

Make it a social call.

Come and see the girls.

There'll be
a fight.

Well, come and
see the fight.

(drumroll)

Do yourself a favor, babe,
get rid of this man.

Why, what's wrong with him,
apart from the obvious things?

Emcee:
Please welcome Gwen
back to the stage.

Ask him about the roses.

(applause)

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

(out of tune playing)

All right, stop, stop,
stop, stop!

Now, that was terrible.
Somebody was out of tune.

We were all
out of tune.
I was in tune.

Yes, but you still
can't count to four.

How did it sound
for you, darling?

I can see why
the Germans bombed you.

See, we've got no top line,
no bottom line,

and there's
bugger all
in the middle.

I know we can't
have a double bass--

Why not?

There's one in
the picture.

That's Madeleine,
she's French.

She left the band and went back
to Paris to join the resistance.

That's the last
we've heard of her.

That's sad.

Patrick:
Oh, well, we'll have to manage
without her I suppose.

That's not good enough.

You were war heroes,
I think you should try harder.

Hmm.

Hmm.

Where are you going?

(band playing)

No.

Thank you, dear.

What are you
collecting for?

The poor, the sick
and the dispossessed.

You don't qualify.

Could the poor, the sick,
and the dispossessed

use 259 pounds?

Because if you take this slip
into that betting shop,

they will give
you 259 pounds.

I don't gamble.
You haven't.

I was the one that gambled
on a double at Newmarket.

The wages of sin.

You have my word.

The races on this occasion
were not fixed.

You know
I can't take this.

Remember the parable
of the talents?

Matthew: Chapter 25?

"He that had received
the five talents

traded with them and
made with them five more."

And the Lord said,
"Well done now,
good and faithful servant."

Now, that's got to be
an even money shot

whichever way
you look at it.

If I take this,

what do I have to do?

Whatever the good Lord in
his infinite wisdom tells you.

I hope that he would suggest
you multiply your talent.

And spread its sweetness
across all the Earth.

(buzzing trombone)

(out of tune, off-tempo playing)

Stop!
Stop, stop, stop, stop.

Oh, dear.

It's amazing.

The more we rehearse,
the worse we sound.

Well?

The committee
meets tonight.

What do I tell them?

Well, tell them we need
a good lead trumpet

so at least the punters will
guess what we're trying to play.

I found this old
Christmas card from Dinah.

Was there anyone finer?

She married a GI
and moved to the States.

"I dumped him
and found me
one or two more."

Oh, she's been
living in Scotland.

Scotland?

I've been phoning
her number in New York,

getting some very
rude answers.

"The last one was rich
and when he died,
he left me this place.

His hobby
was collecting
small countries."

The jammy cow!

Do you mind?
Language.

So, what do I tell
the committee?

Tell them we'll play.

Joanna:
Are you sure?
No, but tell them we'll play.

Yes, but have you
heard the latest?

She's going to
Scotland with him.

I think we should
meet the man.

Well, you know me.
I've always had a thing
about older men.

That's not a nice word
to use to your sister.

♪ Don't sit under
the apple tree ♪

♪ With anyone else
but me ♪

♪ Anyone else
but me ♪

♪ Anyone else but me ♪

♪ No, no, no ♪

♪ Don't sit under
the apple tree ♪

♪ With anyone else
but me ♪

♪ Till I come
marching home ♪

That is some sort of band!

Oh!

Hey, would you come
and play for the GIs?

I mean, we'd guarantee
a convoy down, of course.

Well, I say it would be
an honor to be of service
to Mr. Roosevelt.

Uh, excuse me...

Are you a chap?

Yes, that's why
I pee standing up.

You're a young fellow,
shouldn't you be
in the Armed Forces?

Absolutely not.

I've taken advice.

Dressed like this,
I'd be far
too easy a target.

You just bought yourself
a one-way ticket
to Shitsville, pal.

Let go!
Where are you
taking him?

Elizabeth!
Patrick?

Please, you can't!

Patrick!

That lad ought to be
ashamed of himself.

Look, what's he
supposed to have done?

Elizabeth, you play
beautifully, sensual, erotic!

Can anybody
play the drums?

Well, I've picked
up the odd hint

that you're unhappy about
my friendship with Patrick.

So, here he is.

And he's very happy
to explain himself.

I think it isn't the friendship
as such, it's just...

too soon.

Too soon after
your father's death.

At a time when I'm still
emotionally vulnerable.

Well, yes.

That being so,
Elizabeth should
not be consorting

with an aging Lothario.

Even though he sends me flowers
two or three times a week.

My concern is about you making
terrible fools of yourselves...

and of us
at the school dance.

Patrick will answer
all the charges.

May I offer the case
for the defense?

Please, we're here
to listen.

Thank you.

Well, I'll start with
the easy bit.

It's true that in the beginning
I wore a pretty frock

and I played "Run Rabbit Run"
when I was one of those rabbits

and I was running.

(laughing)
And later on,
after I donned the khaki,

I did win some medals.

You won medals?
Can we see them?

I always carry this one
as a good luck charm.

I was carrying it the day
I met your grandmother

again after all
these years.

Is it a good one?
Leslie: Yes, it is.

It's a Military Cross.

Joanna:
Seriously brilliant.

But it's all irrelevant.

What you have to understand
is that for six years,

we all lived with
the possibility that

every second of
the day and night,

we could be killed.

And that focuses the mind.

It's frightening, yes,
but it's also liberating.

The ultimate gamble,

the biggest crap game
ever invented.

And your mother and I...

we feel guilty.

Do we?
How many died?

20, 30 million?

And yet for some
of us who survived,

it was totally wonderful.

Hmm.

Patrick:
Totally wonderful,
true or false?

True.

And we can't
say it out loud

except to other
Blonde Bombshells.

Elizabeth:
And playing at the dance,

well, that's
our little attempt
to have one last gamble

before we shuffle off
to the great Metropole
Ballroom in the sky.

Hmm.

That was very impressive.

When did you win
the Military Cross?

Um, I, I forget exactly,
1963, '4.

Which war?

Well, actually,
I won it at poker,

from an old war hero
down on his luck.

That's despicable.

I was desperate.

I want your family
to like me.

What the hell is that?

This belongs to Sid.

Well, who's Sid,
another weird lodger?

He used to be my partner
in the casino

until he decided
to go straight.

Now, he sells used cars.

I told him, "Sid...

"I need to borrow
a really special motor

to take a really
special someone to Scotland."

Oh, well you can
thank Sid very much,

but I'm not
coming with you.

What?

I got my credit card
statement this morning.
So?

All those flowers
you've been sending me,

you've been charging to
my bloody credit card.

Well, obviously.

I mean, I'm not
allowed one, am I?

And I only spent
the money on you.

Well, how did you
get the number?

I used my initiative.

You looked in
my handbag.

You make it
sound horrible.

It is horrible.

You're pathetic.

All right, all right,
I apologize.

I'm devastated, I should have
asked your permission.

Oh, shut your face,
go to Scotland,

and come back with
a trumpet player.

It won't be the same
without you.

Well, go to the dogs,
go to Wolverhampton,
go to hell!

I don't care!

Such a pity, you know.

Sleeping beauties generally
weigh in at 100 years.

And the usual arrangement

is for the frog to
turn into the prince.

Not the other way around.

(sighing)

Eh.

(latch clicking)

Bloody door.

(Scottish music intro)

♪ For you
take the high road ♪

♪ And I'll take
the low road ♪

♪ And I'll be in
Scotland before ye ♪

♪ But me
and my true love ♪

♪ Will never
meet again ♪

♪ On the bonnie bonnie banks
of Loch Lomond ♪

♪ By yon bonnie banks ♪

♪ And by yon bonnie braes ♪

♪ Where the sun
shines bright ♪

♪ On the clovers ♪

♪ Where me
and my true love ♪

♪ Will never
meet again... ♪

♪ On the bonnie bonnie banks
of Loch Lomond ♪

♪ Oh, you take
the high road ♪

♪ And I'll take the low road ♪

♪ And I'll be in
Scotland before ye ♪

♪ But me and my true love
will never meet again ♪

♪ On the bonnie bonnie banks
of Loch Lomond ♪

♪ Oh, you
take the high road ♪

♪ And I'll take
the low road ♪

♪ And I'll be in
Scotland before ye ♪

♪ But me and my true love
will never meet again ♪

♪ On the bonnie bonnie banks
of Loch Lomond ♪

♪ Loch Lomond ♪

(indistinct)

Patrick:
Pardon?

You'll be
the gentleman.

And this will be
your suitcase.

And you will be chilly,
I dare say.

Yes, it's just possible.

Sure.
This will help.

Oh, thank you so much.
Thank you.

(dogs barking)

Oh, great dogs.

Patti, Maxine...

and Laverne.

After the Andrews Sisters.

Um, one of them is a boy.

The lady of the house
is most insistent

in the matter of names.

Good God.

When did you get here?

The overnight sleeper.

Central heating
and a roof.

Does this mean
I'm forgiven?

Absolutely not.

I didn't think
you'd come.

But we needed
a trumpet player

and I didn't trust you
to deliver one.

I wouldn't trust you to deliver
a bottle of semi-skimmed milk.

Thanks so much.

Have you seen Dinah?

Apparently, the lady of
the house doesn't appear

in the hours of daylight.

She's probably bricked up
in the west wing.

As soon as the gentleman
has finished his wee dram,

I'll show him to
his accommodation.

We have prepared
two bedrooms.

The lady of the house
is of the opinion

you would require only one.

How many rooms
would you be requiring?

Two, please.

Would they be adjoining
for personal preference?

No, they should be separated
by a wide stretch of water,

for personal preference.

Thank you, McNab.

Ma'am.

Thank you, Dinah,
that was a wonderful meal.

It's a nice little place
you've got here.

I married well
and frequently.

But I know all
the dirt on me.

I want to know
the dirt on you.

Does this mean you've
completed the set, Patrick?

There's no dirt on us.
We're pure as the driven snow.

I hate snow.

It's so goddamned white.

(Patrick laughs)

What you mean,
completed the set?

He hasn't told you about
the roses on the drum kit?

No, I've tended to
go off flowers recently.

As it happens.

Are you going to tell her
or shall I?

Well...

Actually, I got the idea
from the Spitfire Pilots

during the war.

(cheering)

♪ Pardon me, boy, is that
the Chattanooga choo choo ♪

♪ Track 29 ♪

♪ Boy, you can
give me a shine ♪

♪ I can afford to board
the Chattanooga choo choo ♪

♪ I got my fare ♪

♪ And just the travel to spare ♪

♪ You leave
the Pennsylvania station ♪

♪ About a quarter to four ♪

♪ Read a magazine
and then you're in Baltimore ♪

♪ Dinner in a diner,
nothing could be finer ♪

♪ Than to have your ham
and eggs in Carolina♪

♪ When you hear
the whistle blowin' ♪

♪ Eight to the bar ♪

♪ Then you know that Tennessee
is not very far ♪

♪ Shovel all the coal in ♪

♪ Gotta keep it rollin' ♪

♪ Woo-woo, Chattanooga,
there you are ♪

Yeah, he screwed
the lot of us.

I suppose I looked upon it
as my contribution
to the war effort.

Dinah:
And what about the fight?

Never mind about
the adolescent sex
and the fights.

What about the music?

What you tell me is that
The Blonde Bombshell
reunion band

thus far comprises you two,

a foul-mouthed
piano player,

an alto player
out of the slammer on bail,

a trombone player
in the arms of Jesus,

ade facto
two corpses,

and a singer who won't
show up on the night.

And not forgetting
your lovely self.

Do you still play?

(sighs)

Do I still play?

A little story.

My grandson plays trumpet
in his high school band

in Boston, Massachusetts.

On a recent visit to
Grandma's magic castle

in downtown Brigadoon,

he consulted me,
I gave him a lesson

and guess what?

I can still
blow this thing.

I can still part the waters

and bring down
the walls of the city.

(playing expertly)

(barking)

(sustained note)

That's seriously brilliant.

(Gwen breathing heavily)

(groans)

(thud)
(dog whimpers)

Sadly, the lady
is an officially
recognized alcoholic.

Does this
often happen?

McNab:
Every night.

But she knows
she is an alcoholic

and apparently
that's the first step
towards a cure.

How long's
it been going on?

Since the second
World War.

An unhappy
love affair,
seemingly.

Men can be swine.

McNab:
So I'm led to believe.

(sighs)

Elizabeth.

What?
Whisper.

Um, I need to ask
you something.

Patrick.

Do you mind
if I sit down?

(scoffs)
It's been a long day.

And I'm not cold
and I'm not frightened.

And there are
no bombs falling.

Scotland's
not at war.

And I have no intention
of completing your set.

No. What's it like
being a woman?

What?

Well...

Sit down.

Well, you see,
the last weeks

I've relived quite a lot
of my past life.

And most of it seems to have
been a bit of a shambles.

Well, that was
well spotted.
(chuckles)

And I think quite a lot of that
shambles could have been avoided

if I tried a bit harder
to understand women.

Which is odd since I pretended
to be one for so long.

But...

Well, that doesn't
really help.

I mean, women--
well, you're different,
aren't you?

Yes, we have babies
and husbands
and washing machines.

Uh... I see your family and...

I see three generations
of women and it's lovely.

Wish I had generations.

Much too late for that.

It's too late
for everything, actually.

No, not everything.

But I'm going to bed now.

Why did you
marry George?

Patrick.

You know what
it was like.

When I was a young woman,

your sole purpose in life
was to get engaged

to a young man
with prospects,

so, I did.
I met him at
a staff dance.

A dance,
what was the band like?

Oh, lousy.

Jimmy Dickenson
and his Rhythm Rascals.

I was a Rhythm Rascal once.

Now I'm serious
and responsible.

And I think
I'm in love with you.

No, you're not.

You're just cold
and frightened.

Goodnight, Patrick.

Night night.

(sighs)

(indistinct, distant shouting)

Patrick:
Nice doggies. Stay home
and look after the lady.

She's a fine musician,
but she's not very well.

(dogs bark)

Hey, where the hell
are you guys going?

London, we've got a gig.

And I'm held prisoner
here against my will.

Wait, I'm coming down!

God, she's coming
with us.

What should we do,
head for the hills?

These are the hills.

(dog howling)

(thunder)

(children chattering)

(discordant notes)

Joanna:
Stage management,
up the ladder.

Hi, guys.

Sound check in
10 minutes, okay?

Patrick:
Right. Now you go.

Well, this is it, D-Day.

Are you nervous?

No, terrified.
(giggling)

Betty:
Any news on Dinah?

Yes, she's happily ensconced
in the Savoy Hotel.

We saw her at breakfast.

She was planning on
ordering a small distillery

from room service
for later on.

Oh, God.

I'm in charge
of catering and Leslie's
doing decorations.

Oh, hi, Leslie.

You're working well.

The decor's
gonna be a wow.

Oh, I don't really
like wows.

Hey, what manner of
place is this?

This is where we're gonna
make sweet music.

Forget it,
she's here.

Evelyn!
Dinah!

You're looking good
for a jailbird.

I've been
rehabilitated.

Annie!

Dinah,
good to see you.

Betty.

Glad you could
make it, Dinah.

Ah, the famous roses.

Oh, him and
his bloody roses.

Just for the record,
mine is quite
definitely there

under false pretenses.

I'd been drinking.

I don't remember
very much about it.

Far as I can recall
it was deeply embarrassing

and desperately
quick.

It was horrible.

I try not
to think about it.

I haven't seen you guys
since the big fight.

Oh, look, will somebody
tell me about the big fight?

It was the day we were
gonna play for the Yanks.

You couldn't come.
They wouldn't
allow you off school.

(indistinct shouting)

Dinah: They're keen.
Soldier: Hey, sweetcakes!

I love Americans.

Soldier:
Hey, blondie, over here!
Not like the boys
back home.

Marry me,
I love you!

Betty:
Girls, calm down.

Hi, girls.

Together:
Hello.

Welcome to New Jersey
on Thames.

It's a pleasure
to be here.

A pleasure
to be here.

Yeah, well, that remains
to be seen.

See, we've got a slight
technical difficulty.

Uh-oh.
Betty: Watch your heels, girls.

Welcome to
our social club.

Dinah: Social club?
Woman: Careful, Dinah.

Betty:
What happened?
So much for our big night.

A doodle bug.
A flying bomb.

I hope we still
get paid.

The guys were
real disappointed.

They heard you
on the radio.

And they found out
you all were dames,
well, you can imagine.

Dinah:
Well, I'm a little
disappointed, I have to say.

Soldier:
That's the lady
from the bathroom.

Hey, girls.
Darling boy.

Put that man down,
he's mine!

Excuse me!
No, he isn't.

Patrick and I
are secretly engaged.

And I want
everyone to know it.

Well, I got some news.
He's actually engaged to me.

He's even
met my mother.

Sorry, girls, he's marrying me
as soon as the war's over.

And I, uh, just bought
a silk nightie
on the black market.

Annie:
He's marrying me.

I spoke to the vicar
and he gave me some booklets.

He proposed to me
in the boiler house
on Tuesday.

He proposed to me
on Thursday.

Girls, you're all
wasting your time.

Patrick's already
married to me.

(grumbling)

We got married
this morning.

Gwen: Betty, shut up.
You lying bitch.

Tell them, dear.

Uh...
Yes, tell us.

He ought to explain!
Patrick, tell us!

Annie:
Go on, what's
all this rubbish?

It's true.
I got a 48-hour pass
so I could get married

and play the gig.

And anyway tomorrow,
I go off to foreign parts.

If you live that long.
He won't.

(yelling)

(playing sustained note)

Oh.

Well, how was it?

You tell them.

Dinah, you were sharp.

Evie, you were flat.

And Annie...

you were in tune, but you've
forgotten how to swing.

And Patrick, you sound like
you're wearing a surgical boot.

What about me?

Oh, you were fine,
darling.

She would say that.
You're her favorite.
Oh, please.

Girls, girls.

(all arguing)

Go screw yourself.

Betty:
That's as individuals.

As a unit,
we were crap.

Maybe we were crap
way back in 1944.
Except in our dreams.

Hey, and that's
another thing.

There's to be no drinking
on the stand.

Sorry, babe, this is
not negotiable.

Sober I can't play a note,
drunk I can't play a note,

but there's a point
in the middle

where I play like
a goddamn angel.

Please, Dinah,
do you mind?

I'd rather you
didn't blaspheme.

This is a bandstand, sister.

If you don't like it,
get thee to a fucking nunnery.

That's enough!
I resign!

I resign!
Dinah, you can't do that.

What about the boys?

Shit, I resign too.

Soldier:
Girls.
Me too.

(yelling)

I'm going back
to the prison.

At least people
are nice in prison.

(yelling continues)

Come back.
Salaud!

Soldier:
Your husband just dropped
the bomb on the band, lady.

Stop, you're not
going anywhere!

You lot,
you're a disgrace to women.

I wouldn't
disagree with that.

Don't you realize
what's at stake here?

What's at stake?
I can't think of anything.

First off, the dance
is in an hour's time

and there's 100 quid
in it for you.

I had to fight
the committee to get it.

Is that 100 pounds each?

No, between you to share.

And tea and biscuits.

If I give you 100 pounds,

may I proceed peacefully
to the nearest liquor store?

Joanna:
No, you may not!

And what about all my calls
to the French embassy...

in French?

What's she
talking about?

Tracking down
your Madeleine.

(speaking French)

Elizabeth:
Madeleine?

(Betty playing the
French National Anthem)

Madeleine,
do you still play?

A 5'3 woman doesn't lug
that instrument across Europe

on public transport
just for the fun of it.

Have you started
without me?

Only because we thought
you were dead.

Oh, I'm very much alive.

Not so sure about
the rest of you, though.

Elizabeth!

(both squeal)

And Patrick.

Patrick.

The man who was
going to marry me.

Salaud!

(sighs)

Now we can rehearse.

(playing smoothly)

(laughing)

(loud rock music)

Apparently they're
called Open Wound.

Open what?

Wound.

And the music they play
is retro punk.

Well, I can't tell whether
this is any good or not.

I think we might be
in the wrong place.

I think we might be in
the wrong bleeding century.

(microphone feedback)

(heavy breathing)

I'll be ever so good
for the rest of my life

if you help me get through
this tonight please.

Any news of Gwen?

Not as yet.

She doesn't show,
we'll kill her.

You'll see to it,
right, babe?

There's a geezer
comes in the bar,

he's in that
line of work.

I know how to
kill people.

Do you really know
how to kill people?

Oh, it was necessary
in the resistance.

That's why I play music.

Music is the only
clean thing I know.

There.

Now...

how's that?
Mmm.

Second favorite lips.

(cheering)

Soldier:
Come on, darling! Come on!

(laughing)

I've come to
say I'm sorry.

Sorry, what for?

It's all my fault.

If I hadn't been
beautiful and talented,

we wouldn't have
been on the BBC.

The man from the BBC
wouldn't have seen you
in the lavatories.

And then you wouldn't
have been arrested.

And you wouldn't be going off
to almost certain death.

That was you?

Well, of course it was.

I've been wondering for years
who that little schoolgirl was.

Maybe not years, but a good
20 minutes certainly.

Oh, shut up.

Say something
sensible for once.

Will you marry me?

Absolutely not.

You don't even remember
you gave me my first
grownup kiss.

I'm not very good
at remembering.

Mmm! I'm still waiting
for the second.

Open Wound will be
back later this evening.

(applause)

And now, it's my pride and
privilege to introduce, well...

my grandmother actually
and The Blonde Bombshells.

(students groan)

Thank you, Joanna.

Boy:
Bring back Open Wound!

A long time ago
when the world was young,

I was a Blonde Bombshell.

I wasn't much older than
a lot of you here this evening.

Now, several decades later,
I made a discovery...

that old people
are just young people

who've been around
for a long time.

Here's one.

From London, England.

Direct from
the all-night casino,

the little boy
who never grew up.

And the finest transvestite
percussionist of our time.

Patrick on the drums.
Thank you.

From the end of the pier
in Hastings, also in England,

a woman who has lived
suspended over the deep end
of the ocean for a long time

and as of yet,
hasn't fallen in.

Betty on piano.

(jazzy piano playing)

Patrick:
Take it away, Betty!

Elizabeth:
From the blood-soaked
continent of Europe,

a woman who tells it
like it was, is,
and ever more shall be,

Madeleine on bass.

(jazzy bass playing)

From the highlands of Scotland,
trailing clouds of glory,

malt whiskey,
and alimony,

Dinah plays the sweetest trumpet
this side of Jericho.

(jazzy trumpet playing)

On secondment
from Christianity,

with a note
countersigned by God,

we say "Amen"
with Annie on trombone.

On parole from
the debtors' prison

and getting help and care
in the community...

Evelyn...

on alto sax.

(scattered applause)

Patrick:
All right.
(Madeleine speaks French)

I thought I'd come along
for the fight.
Oh! She's here!

It's about time, Gwen.
Well, you missed it.

Oh, shit!

Elizabeth:
Are you gonna sing?
Gwen: Introduce me.

From the Latin quarter
of Wolverhampton,

the woman with
a voice of gold

who never ever
plays school dances

and totally unrehearsed...

Gwen.

From the leafy suburbs
of south London,

the bombshell who made
all this possible,

Elizabeth on tenor sax.

(applause)

Gwen:
Put it all together
and what have you got?

Ladies and gentlemen,

The Blonde Bombshells
of the third age.

(up-tempo jazzy tune)

♪ It don't mean a thing
if you ain't got that swing ♪

(Gwen scatting)

Come on.
♪ It don't mean a thing ♪

♪ All you've got
to do is sing ♪

(Gwen scatting)

♪ Makes no difference
if it's sweet or ♪

(Gwen scatting)

♪ Don't mean a thing
if you ain't got that swing ♪

(laughs)

(Gwen scatting)

(giggles)

(Gwen continues scatting)

♪ Don't mean a thing
if you ain't got that swing ♪

(Gwen scatting)

(Gwen scatting)

(Gwen scatting)

(scatting)

♪ Don't mean
a thing, baby ♪

♪ Don't mean a thing,
my baby ♪

♪ Don't mean a thing, baby ♪

♪ Not if you ain't
got that swing ♪

♪ Swing, swing ♪

♪ Ah... ♪

Yeah!

(cheers and applause)

(whistling)

Sweetheart, I've just seen
little old chip's drum kit.

Yes?

Betty:
Does that mean what
we think it means?

He's completed
the set?

We found the keys
to the boiler house.
(Betty laughs)

And about time too.

You're not going to
marry him, are you?

Dinah:
Oh, why shouldn't she?

Everyone should marry
Patrick at least once.

But I'm not, she was right
the first time.

All I wanted was
a bit of fun, dearie.

(laughing)

(slow jazzy piano playing)

♪ They call me coquette
and mademoiselle ♪

♪ And I must admit
I like it quite well ♪

♪ It's something to be
the darling of all ♪

♪ The grand femme fatale,
the belle of the ball ♪

♪ There's nothing as gay
as life in Paris ♪

♪ There's no other person
I'd rather be ♪

♪ I love what I do ♪

♪ I love what I see ♪

♪ But where is the schoolgirl ♪

♪ That used to be me... ♪

♪ Oh, the apple trees ♪

♪ Blossoms in the breeze ♪

♪ That we walked amongst ♪

♪ Lying in the hay ♪

♪ Games we used to play ♪

♪ While the rounds were sung ♪

♪ Only yesterday ♪

♪ When the world
was young ♪

♪ When the world was young ♪

(song ends)

Elizabeth:
Betty has started promoting
The Bombshells again

and booked us
into every seaside venue
that will take us.

Annie allows herself to play
the devil's music,

but has given up
trying to save the souls
of musicians.

Evelyn has joined
a government think tank

on the subject
of prison reform.

Madeleine continues
to be slim and beautiful.

We hate her for this.

Gwen has made several
award-winning albums

of songs so old
that most people
think they're new.

Dinah gives up drinking
on a regular basis

and has married
her man servant.

She now calls herself
"Mrs. Brown."

I changed my credit card,

but I realize I can't
change Patrick.

He wants to make
an honest woman out of me,

but that would
spoil everything.

Being a Blonde Bombshell

is still the most fun
I've ever had.

So far.

♪ We'll have
a happy ending now ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ Here I stand again ♪

♪ 'Bout to beat
the band again ♪

♪ I am feeling grand again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ Here I come again ♪

♪ Gonna make things
hum again ♪

♪ I'm really acting
dumb again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ I never dreamed
in my slumbers ♪

♪ And gambling was taboo ♪

♪ Now I'm playing
the numbers ♪

♪ And my number one number
is you ♪

♪ Weighed it in again ♪

♪ Leading with
my chin again ♪

♪ And I'm starting now
to win again ♪

♪ Taking a chance
on love ♪

♪ Here I slip again ♪

♪ About to take
that trip again ♪

♪ I've almost lost
my grip again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ Now I'm about
to prove again ♪

♪ That I can make
things blue again ♪

♪ I'm in a groove again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ I walk around
with a horseshoe ♪

♪ And in clover I lie ♪

♪ And brother rabbit
of course you better ♪

♪ Kiss your foot
goodbye ♪

♪ On the ball again ♪

♪ Riding for
a fall again ♪

♪ And I'm gonna
give my all again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ I'm feeling fine again ♪

♪ I'm gonna rise
and shine again ♪

♪ I've almost lost
my mind again ♪

♪ Taking a chance
on love ♪

♪ Boy, I'm hooked again ♪

♪ In the swing
and I'm hooked again ♪

♪ This goose of mine
is cooked again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ This game
I'm having a crack ♪

♪ Needs good love from me ♪

♪ So I'm taking a whack ♪

Elizabeth:
And if you need
to hire a band

for your wedding, wake,
or bar mitzvah,

The Blonde Bombshells
are usually available.

Take it away, girls!