- Ah, Grimsby.
Finest fish dock in all the world.
Born out of nothing when our Viking friend,
Old Grim, landed ashore looking to snag a few eels.
Industry arrived, and before we knew,
it went from being a tiny little fishing village
to the largest port in the world.
Boats by the hundreds,
thousands upon thousands of Trawlermen,
fish caught by the billion.
You couldn't move there was so many Trawlermen
back on land in their new tailored suits,
and their Creeper boots.
Money was everywhere.
The whole town awash with cash.
Grimsby was thriving, rocking,
but then rather quickly, it all went to ship.
- Bowing under American pressure,
Crossland has agreed to a 200 mile
exclusion zone around Iceland,
effectively killing the fishing industry.
- Since the end of the Cod Wars,
Grimsby's port has gone from housing hundreds of
independent trawling companies to just two.
- With the closure this week
of Ernie Sampson Trawling.
- Star Fisheries owner Donald Barr
looks today to host what could be a do or die meeting.
- Sell the land as part
of the town's redevelopment program.
- That's me, Curly Dean.
5'11, and 160 pounds of Grimsby's finest.
So what does a man who has it all dream about, you ask?
Handsome bastard, tick.
Charming, tick.
Minted, tick,
tick, tick.
Well, I will be once we flog this ice packed bounty
of soon to be battered and deep fried aquatics.
The main thing you need to know about the common Trawlerman
is we're not like other folk.
We're freaks.
We risk life and limb, make big bank,
then set fire to it.
We live like death's always round the corner.
That's 'cause it is.
What you're looking at here is one of a dying breed.
Trawlermen.
Son of Trawlerman.
This is a man with fish in his bones.
With more than two sheets in the wind.
This is a man with sea-water coursing through his veins,
like a rare hooky vodka.
Now, I know.
You're thinking, this fisherman's rather tasty.
Fetching.
Not entirely without a certain joie-de-vivre.
Whereas young Budgie here,
you're thinking this boy could only be half man,
half milkshake on a good day.
Am I right?
- Ah!
- Old Budgie's not really cut out for life at sea.
He's not really cut out for life.
He only really got this gig 'cause his mam
wants him out the house while she's belly-bumping Mr Barr,
A.K.A The Big Boss.
That said, Budgie does bring his own
unique skillset to the workplace?
- Curls, I had this well weird dream.
Mr Barr was operating on me while I was awake.
He swapped my eyes with my balls.
I could see inside my scrotum.
- Come here, mate.
Bring it in.
This is what I mean.
- Oh, giz us a look.
Giz us a look!
- We're home, Budgie boy.
The best place on earth.
Welcome, fuckers,
to Grimsby.
♪ Against all odds ♪
♪ I'm still here ♪
♪ Bought up on cheap red wine ♪
♪ And home brewed beer ♪
♪ You've not got class, but I've got hope ♪
♪ But that's all gone up in smoke ♪
♪ Do you still love me now I'm broke? ♪
♪ I'm still here ♪
♪ I'm in paradise ♪
♪ I'm in, I'm in ♪
♪ Yeah! ♪
- Now my old man reckons that back in the sixties,
you could walk across the Trawlers
from one side of Grimsby to the other.
You see, Trawlermen like my dad
were rock stars once upon a time.
Screwed by the Tories, ridiculed by the liberals.
We've been sold down river more
than once since the glory days.
But mark my words,
Grimsby will reemerge from the depths like a sperm whale,
or like your old man in a bubble bath.
Magnificent boner glistening in the foam and spray.
So say it once, say it loud,
and say it firm.
To the ocean we are born,
and to the ocean we shall return.
- Don't blow it all at once.
I've not had a sail time for Monday yet,
but when I do, you'll know.
And spare a thought for your Skipper
while you're getting off your tits.
I'm waiting on a call from Mr. Barr himself.
- Expanding the fleet, isn't he?
- All right.
Calm down, calm down.
- So can I tell Codge he's gonna get his old job back then?
We're gonna need more hands on deck
when things start taking off again.
- You tell that scrob he'll get his old job back
when he jacks it in with them bastard drugs.
- It's true.
Codge does have bloody-type amphetamine.
But what can I say?
Albeit addicted to any and every
substance gracing the periodic table,
he's a shipmate.
We grew up together.
Threw up together.
- If you must know, there's a big deal on the table,
so I've heard.
And if it's ought worth knowing, you'll find out.
Right, get the fuck off my vessel you lot.
♪ I wish I was a fisherman ♪
♪ Tumbling on the seas ♪
♪ Borrowing from dry land ♪
♪ And it's built on memories ♪
- To the humble three day millionaire,
home means three things for three days.
Money, merriment,
and if you lucky enough,
a brief but exotic STD,
previously unknown to medical science.
- Woohoo!
The Arctic Ranger returns.
Cold enough for you, was it?
- Come on.
- Spoke to Alfy Glassel again.
He's snagging a ton a day out the Monterey.
Says California is where we need to be.
He's dragging Rockfish over the side.
Halibut, but he's saying it's
like you wouldn't believe.
$200 a piece.
- 200 you say?
- 30 pound Lings.
Albacore Tuna!
Giddee up, Budge.
- Are you actually gonna do it, Codge?
Are you actually really gonna go one day?
- Budgie, Alf says the sun shines every day.
But not too hot.
Just--
- Congenial spring sunshine.
- Yes!
Congenial fucking sunshine.
- With just the faintest little whiff
of tanned California fanny.
- Yes, the very grandest of all Canyons I might add.
- Mate, I don't mean to piss on your bonfire,
but California is a million miles away, more.
- Curly, this place is done.
Grimsby is as dead as frigging dead whelks and crab shite.
I'm telling you.
- I can see how one might draw up that conclusion,
Codge, all right?
But the glory days are coming back.
They are coming back!
Listen, mon Frere.
Barr's in with the bankers right now.
Grimsby's on the up.
Soon this place is gonna be wall to wall with Trawlers.
Budgie, tell the guy.
Am I right?
- Oh yeah.
Honestly, oh yeah.
- You know what?
You guys are the very essence of institutionalization.
Imprisoned by your own frostbitten,
working class limitations.
It's just sad, that's all.
- Visiting the child-bearers, are we boys?
Like good loving sons?
- Interesting proposition there, Wheezy.
Though in truth,
I was hoping to forego the family reunions
in favor of immediate inebriation.
What you saying, brethren?
- Well, I must concur with my honorable colleague here,
and make only one objection to said notion.
That of budgetary restrictions.
- Strike the objection,
for high street cash converters await.
- In that case, the motion passes.
♪ I met a guy last week ♪
♪ He's been my hero ♪
♪ He gives me everything I ever need ♪
♪ 'Cause he's real fine ♪
♪ He's real fine ♪
♪ And all so kind, you know ♪
- We see Grimsby as a real sleeping giant.
Ripe for a new breed of young professional.
Metropolitans who want to spend
their salaries on artisan coffee,
cocktails, vegan lunches.
The young people don't want fish.
It's just a bit too fishy.
Thank you all for listening.
- Well for what it's worth, Kelly,
this is the kind of forward
thinking idea that Grimsby needs.
- And rest assured I can deal
with any untimely planning issues
which might surface at Whitehall.
- I think this is disgusting.
All you care about is your profits,
and you, you politicians.
You care nothing about Grimsby,
the town, the history of the people--
- Bit much, isn't it?
- How is that a bit much?
You come up here from London and you've never even--
- Oh, look at that.
I seem to have made a terrible mess.
Charlie?
Very impressive, Ms. Devine.
And apologies for the outburst.
Some people in the firm have been here for so long,
they think they own the sodding place.
- Should you decide to go ahead,
how long will it take to wind things up?
Specifically, release the land?
- Oh, don't worry about that.
We're well down that road.
Well, unfortunately I have other business to attend to,
so you can let yourselves out.
- Would you like me to stick around a while, Mr Barr?
- No.
Send young Gilly in, would you?
We need some new blood moving forward, I reckon.
- It's 12 a kilo, Mike.
No, I can't go any lower.
We've got no quota left.
- Despite fancying her since we were kids,
Gilly's always been destined for
bigger things than Grimsby can give her.
She worked her way up through the depths of Barr's Fisheries
to become our Supreme Leader's right-hand woman.
- All right, well it's your call,
but when nobody wants your surplus,
don't come running back to me
with your cockles in your hand, hey?
- And she's learned a thing or two from him.
- All right.
12 it is, darl.
- You're wanted, board room.
- How's it all going in there?
- Three day millionaires.
That's what they called my dad
and his mates back in the olden days.
See, maritime folklore says if you go
back to sea with coin in your pocket,
your ship's sinking faster than beans through a cowboy.
And in this town,
if you've got three days on land to blow a wage,
that pretty much makes you a millionaire.
Now, first rule of the three day millionaire.
If you're gonna get fire to the world as we do,
you don't do it looking like your mam's dressed you.
You do it sharp as Tewksbury mustard.
Stick around, Chauffeur.
- Love to mate.
All right, where's the party?
- Budgie's gaff.
- What?
Curly, you said a few?
- This is all for you, Budgie boy.
- Oh, that's nice.
Yeah, I don't see how I benefit from this.
- Oh, mate.
Do you really think I'd forget?
Right, Queenie's coming.
- What?
- Yeah, Queenie's coming.
Tonight's the night.
There must be a Queenie in every fishing port in the world.
Loyal, hardworking,
and hard versed in the dying art of pescatarian pilferage.
- Ah, fuck!
- Ta, love.
You're a star.
Roll on sodding pay day.
- What the fuck are you doing?
- Elton, Honky Chateau years.
Oh Curly, she's here.
What am I gonna say to her?
- Don't worry, Budge.
All right?
Because you look like a right bobby dazzler, all right?
Just be, uh,
just be Budgie.
Not too much Budgie.
Go on.
- Bit of perfume should help.
Can you smell it, mam?
- I'm still getting a whiff of cod guts to be honest, love.
- Fuck off, you cow.
Seriously?
- Now then, Marion.
Now then, Queenie.
- Now then, Budgie.
- You what?
Oh.
- Go on, treat yourself to some cock.
- May I join you?
- What's with the straw?
- Oh, I find I drink less this way.
It paces me.
You know, shelled foods are good for that?
Pistachios, oysters.
I use obstacles to slow me down.
It stops me gorging.
You know I once choked eating lutefisk?
- Is this one of your famous cocktails then, Curl?
- Now this is an ancient recipe,
handed down from father to son for over a thousand years.
Ladies and gentlemen, behold.
The near mythical alchemy of Green Diesel.
- Observe ye the Fisherman, ladies,
as he abandons the here and now for the fever of dreams.
Hints of dark fruit.
A beguiling back note of,
uh, fuck.
- Oh, Codgie!
- The mighty Trawlerman returns.
- That is Demi,
a genuine aficionado of the intrepid Trawlerman.
Affectionately known as Pitbull,
meaning takes zero shit from any fucker,
including marine-life.
- You know what he said to me, right?
He goes, I want that haddock skin side up.
I said, do you?
Well we want our fucking overtime back.
So you know what you can do with that haddock?
You can take that fucking haddock,
and you can stick it up your fuck--
- You get the point.
Codge has been like a tom-cat
with three bollocks ever since they met.
Clearly he's not mentioned the fact
he's not technically a Trawlerman anymore.
A troubling detail for sure.
- Curly, I need you.
- No you don't, Budge.
Look, Queenie worships you.
- No, it's not that.
Curly, my mum's on her way home.
- We always knew this might happen.
Look, just go and get her a drink.
- Curly, I can't!
It's much worse than that!
- Jesus, Budge.
What is it?
- Mr. Barr's with her.
- Budgie!
- A travesty to despoil such a fine
and majestic brogue, sir.
- I tried to keep it tidy, mum.
- Go on, sod off.
- Sorry Budgie's mum.
- Mhm.
- Dipshit.
- Come on, Budgie.
- Just spruced up the gaff for you, Mrs Budgell.
Oh, and just a little something for the inconvenience.
- Thought you'd be involved in this, Curly Dean.
Go on then, clear off.
- Mr Barr, how did the big meeting go?
Got any news for the troops?
- You're Teapot's lad, aren't you?
Well, you can the troops that the news is good.
In fact, it's great news.
Decisions have been made, paper's have been signed,
and an announcement is imminent.
- Now, where were we?
- That's the last of it, Charlie.
I'll be back Monday to transfer it to Mr. Barr's client.
- Lots of rumors going round
in there with your name attached.
You ought not to lead them on like that.
- Just keeping up morale, Mr. Gee.
- Oh aye.
Or leading them on a merry dance, you mean.
- Now I assume you've all met Mr. Gee.
Ex-Trawlerman, turned to the dark side.
Though, to be fair,
I'd have a face like a smacked arse too if my wife
traded me in for a Greek Adonis with a hedge fund.
Bit mardy, aren't we?
Your goldfish die or summat?
- Obviously you don't know.
- Know what?
- You're finished lad, in short.
We all are.
You, me,
them lot.
Barr's pulled the plug.
- No.
I was with Barr earlier and he said it was good news.
- Yeah, there is for him.
He's flogged the docks,
purchased by The Devine Residential Group.
It's got a nice little ring to it that, hasn't it?
- You were in the meeting?
- Yeah.
And I hope you like drinking bucket loads
of shite coffee and eating overpriced muffins,
because that is what's happening.
They're like an army,
taking over towns with their franchises.
Kids serving bloody kids on a minimum wage,
working for fat cat owners who'll
never step food near this place.
- Barr wouldn't sell his golden goose.
Why would he?
- It's all right, don't worry.
You'll get another job!
I mean, do you like making Frappuccinos?
- What about the MP?
The guy who was on the TV,
the guy trying to save the fishing industry?
- Politicians love talking about
how much they care about our industry,
when the fact is when it matters,
Curly, they couldn't care less!
It's the sprawl, Curly lad.
They found us.
They found us and you know it.
- It can't end like this.
It can't.
Our livelihoods, our very lives depend on this.
- Curly, where you going?
- I'm going to see Barr.
- He's not gonna tell you the truth, is he!
Listen to me.
You're no nobody, just like me.
- Look, we have to do something!
- Curly, stop!
Right?
You've got your head buried in the sand, lad.
Our industry has been dying for years.
Just ask your old man.
This, I mean, this?
This is just the final nail in the coffin.
- All right, so that's it then is it?
We just turn over and die?
My old man says the the glory days are coming back,
and guess what?
I believe him.
- The paper's are signed, son.
I seen it happen.
We're just dead wood now.
Just...
Just look after yourself, hey kid.
- There he is, man of the hour.
Here.
Hang onto these for us, brother.
Cassa's bouncers are onto us.
For those who seek passage to
the other side of the midnight hour.
- You don't think me and Codge'll last, do you?
I can tell.
- No, it's not that.
It's just I am the last person
you should talk to about love.
Trust us.
- Can't stop pissing at the moment.
- Don't do anything silly,
will you, Dems?
Don't get stuck.
I just mean that none of us know what the future holds.
Just be careful, yeah?
- And why was it you really came out tonight, Gilly?
To see Curly Dean, yeah?
So, pot and kettle.
Come on.
- Woo!
- Never had you pegged as a clubber, Mr. Gee.
- Yeah.
I was the life and soul once,
Curly lad, just like you.
And this here?
This is where we met, me and Jenny.
- What's he doing with his ships?
- Written off.
Barr's brother works for the loss adjusters,
so he's got me scrapping them for cash.
Nice little tax free bonus for himself.
- Why can't he just get the investors to put money in?
Revive the industry.
- Because it's land they're after, lad.
Riverside locations, not fucking fish.
- So what do you want, Mr. Gee?
Assume you're not here on the pull.
- Well, you know,
I've been thinking.
At first I thought it was just a reaction to everything,
but now I can't get it out of my head.
- Go on.
- It's the company safe, Curly.
It's fit to burst, but not for long.
Barr has got this cash for crypto currency thing going on.
- What're you saying, Mr. Gee?
- What I'm saying is,
maybe I'm saying, just maybe,
we could empty that safe before he does.
- You'd die for that company,
and now you wanna rob the place?
Give me a break.
- Look, why not?
They're robbing me!
And it's like you said, Curly lad.
We can't just roll over and die, can we?
- I think it's past your bedtime, Mr. Gee.
Sweet dreams.
- You can't carry on living in the past, Curly.
Your dad's days of the three day millionaires are gone.
The world has moved on,
and if you carry on clinging onto the past,
it'll leave you behind too.
Listen to me.
There is over 500 grand sitting in that bloody safe.
The sort of money the likes of me and you,
we don't come across too often.
- So do it then.
What you asking me for?
- Because it's not just a one man job now, is it.
- Enjoy your life, Mr. Gee.
- We could use that money to set up
our own little fishing operation on the North Bank.
And get your old man!
Get your old man to Skipper for us.
Get him up off his arse and get him back out there.
You're a fucking Trawlerman, Curly.
Like me, and like your old man,
and nothing you can do can change that.
The only question is are you ready to fight for who you are?
- Curly, wait!
Where you going?
Do you not wanna come in for a drink?
- Is it true, Gilly?
- What?
- Barr, mm?
Flogging the docks, shutting shop.
Is it true?
- Curly.
- How long have you known?
The last trip, when me and you was...
Wow!
- Curly, listen.
Things just,
they can't stay the same, all right?
Trust me.
You just go out and catch fish, and get paid,
but I see what's going on through the books.
- You, hey?
Proper little management, hey?
Fair fucking play to you.
Fair fucking play.
You know me?
I deserve it.
- Curly wait, Curly!
Curly, wait!
- Do you know what?
I'm fine Gilly, all right?
Just go back inside.
- Just stop bloody talking for a minute, will you?
Just...
I can't believe I'm doing this.
Just gimme a minute, all right?
All that stuff in there, yeah,
that's just my job.
That's all it is.
- Yeah, and that's mine as it goes.
- Okay, fine!
But they're just our jobs is what I'm saying.
- Do you know what? I'm going, Gilly.
- No Curly, I like you.
If you just, you've got into my head,
or under my skin, or something,
and every cell in my body is telling me that I shouldn't.
But I like you.
I mean, more than like.
Just promise me you won't do anything stupid, Curly.
- I promise.
- Why do they call you Queenie?
- Mam told me that when I were born,
my grandad said he could tell
I'd do something special one day.
That's why they called us Queenie.
- Were it your life's dream to work with scallops?
- My career's officer said there were two things on offer.
Hairdressing or shellfish.
Mam worked at Barr's, so she got us in.
- I like shellfish.
They're salty, and they come in a shell.
Always a bonus.
I'm not a very good Fisherman though.
Curly says I am, that's why he always bunks in with me,
but Mr. Barr only gave me the job
'cause my mum kept nagging him.
- You're a good dancer though.
- You think so?
I love dancing.
- And your grandad, he was?
- You know what we said to the coastguard
just before the ship sank?
They asked him what his intentions were,
but he couldn't do anything.
Only a mile out from port and all.
He said to them, I have no intentions.
Please give all the men's love to all the families.
Them were his last words.
- Wow.
You know, I don't think I could ever be that brave.
- No one knows what they could be, Budgie.
Not unless we're there, right there in that moment.
- Queenie, do you ever think about
leaving Grimsby and just starting again?
- Come on, I'm on earlies all this week.
♪ And I start to fall ♪
♪ I don't want to be alone ♪
♪ When I start to fall ♪
♪ I don't want to be alone ♪
- It's funny, innit?
My mam was already married by my age.
- Crazy.
- Well yeah, I used to think so,
but I don't know.
I know it's old fashioned and that,
but I would if you would.
- Pitbull, slow down.
- Well, why not?
You're a Trawlerman for Christ's sake.
There's not many women who'd
put up with that like I do, you know?
I think we'd make a great team.
You catch the fish, I pack them.
And I want you to stop calling me Pitbull.
We're supposed to be bloody adults, Codge.
- I'm so sorry, love.
I really am.
I'm sorry, okay?
- What the fuck is going on, Gilly?
- I wanted to say something last night, I really did.
I just wasn't allowed.
- No, this can't happen.
Is Codge being let go and all?
- What do you mean?
- Codge, is he being let go or not?
- Codge doesn't work for Barr's.
He hasn't done in ages.
- What?
No, you're lying.
- I thought you knew, darl.
It's the pills, gross misconduct.
- You're a liar, Gilly Simmo.
That's what you are, you're a fucking liar.
- Demi, Demi!
- Halle-fucking-lujah.
Entre!
Entre, entre.
- What are you doing, mate?
- Mate, you got those pills?
I'm seriously jittery.
- No, look.
I need you sober, all right?
Tell me about the dream.
- What dream?
- The dream, Alfy Glassel in California sunshine,
the panty biting bollocks.
- Mate, just give me the fucking--
- Fuck off, Codge.
- Get off me, man!
I'll melt your fucking head in.
- Look, we need to do something.
All right, we've got to.
Barr is selling the docks, we're done.
- Yeah, I could have told you that.
I did tell you that, many times.
- Just tell me that fucking dream, will you?
- Shall I tell you what dreams are, Curly?
Dreams are there to keep you through the night.
When the waves are crashing over the bow
and home's still a fuck of a long way off.
They're not meant to be lived, Curly.
- What are you on about?
- Alfy Glassel's doing 15 years in Rampton.
I went to see him, he's as mad as a March Hare.
He thinks he's living in Santa Cruz.
- So then what was all that about?
- I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
My name's not Codge, it's Andrew Pearson,
and I'm full of shit.
Now please, pretty fucking please,
can I have my mind altering drugs back?
- Hi Demi.
- Hi beautiful.
- You shut the fuck up.
And you?
- I'll see myself out.
- Great.
Not you, you divvy cunt.
♪ Man looks up on a yellow sky ♪
♪ And the rain turns to rust in his eyes ♪
- Dad, are you in?
♪ Rumors of his health are alight ♪
♪ Old England is dying ♪
♪ His clothes are a dirty shade of blue ♪
♪ And his ancient shoes ♪
- Teapot?
Now then, you old bastard.
- Just tied off, have you?
- Yeah.
Yesterday, dad.
- Been thinking about going back out with you.
Get my sea legs back.
Can't find a boat for love nor money at the moment, like.
- Yeah, it's crap innit?
- It'll come back, just a lull.
Hey, what about your boat?
I told you I used to sail out
for Barr back in the day, didn't I?
- Yeah.
Yeah you did, dad.
- I won't slow you down or ought.
He knows I'm a good grafter.
I left a few messages for him, but...
- I don't think it really works on that anymore dad.
I think you have to email your CV and all that crap.
- Oh?
Might need you to borrow us a few bob,
get myself set up, all that.
- Yeah, no problem dad.
You know me, always minted.
I'll have to move back in for a bit, if that's alright?
- Room's still there.
Brought you a brew.
- Cheers.
- Hey!
Back out on tomorrow's tide, are you?
- Just waiting to hear.
A couple of quota problems.
- Pissing frogs, hey?
- Should've never allowed that 200 mile
exclusion zone around Iceland,
should we, dad?
- Yeah, you're not wrong there lad.
If we dragged out sovereignty that pissing far,
every bastard in Paris'd be eating pie and chips,
and playing pissing bingo.
By hell.
That old mucky river looks further
and further away every day.
They've said I have to go back to that doctor, you know?
- What?
- Don't worry, you know what they're like.
They'll always find something wrong with you.
- But you're gonna go though, aren't you?
- They'll only tell us I can't drink no more, son.
What kinda life's that for an old sea-dog like me, hey?
- What's all that talk.
Here, dad.
How'd you feel about getting back in the wheel house?
- What you on about?
- Honestly.
I've had an offer, business.
A chance to go halves with one of the big bosses.
You remember Charlie Graham, don't you?
- Bloody hell, son.
Honest?
- Yeah, honest.
What do you reckon?
Tackle the Mackerel grounds in the North?
Nobody knows them waters like you do.
- Aye, you're not wrong there.
- So you're onboard then, yeah?
You're gonna do it, yeah?
- I'll tell you what, son.
You just try and bloody stop me!
- Mr. Gee, it's Curly.
We're in.
You got a driver in mind?
- Brown shrimp?
- It's just my mam I'm upset for, Budge.
I'll get a start somewhere.
Who is it?
- It's Curly.
They're having a business meeting, they want me there!
- Then go, silly.
Budgie, go!
- I'm gonna get you your mum's job back, Queenie.
And yours, all right?
Just you watch.
- Look at me, you know how this works.
- Go on, how? Tell me--
- How else am I supposed to get
through those 24 hour shifts?
- Oh yeah, and when exactly was the last time you did that?
What you doing?
- Babes, I gotta go.
- Don't you fucking dare, don't you fucking dare--
- To be continued, I promise.
- Don't you fucking dare.
Codge please, just wait a minute please!
I'm pregnant.
Codge?
- Thank you very much, thank you.
Thank you very much, you're fantastic.
Hey, thank you very much.
Beautiful, thank you very much.
Goodnight, God bless you.
Thank you.
- Wait, you're not joking are you?
Fishermen we are.
Ocean's fucking four we definitely are not.
- Look, right.
That money has been earnt off the back of thousands
of years of pure graft and pure sacrifice, yeah?
It's ours, it's the communities.
And guess what?
We're gonna take it back, and we're gonna reinvest it.
- Right, ducks.
For this next part, I need some volunteers.
Come on, someone?
Don't think you're gonna get away with it--
- As much as I love, and I mean love cabaret afternoon,
I do believe the deal was to hear you out.
I've done that, Curly,
so gear now.
- There's nought out there, okay?
Apart from the unthinkable.
And guess what?
A nine to five ain't your bag, mate.
Now this is the only way that we're
gonna save our way of life here, lads.
Yeah?
We have to be our own cavalry, Codge.
Yeah?
And guess what, I'm not gonna do it without you.
- What about you, hm?
Are you up for robbing your old stepfather to be?
- Is it gonna annoy him?
- Oh!
I should think so, Budge.
Yeah, picture for me,
if you will, the notorious Scarface scene,
featuring chainsaw and lumps of your skull slash brains
arcing beautifully across a plastic shower curtain.
- I've not seen it.
- Listen to him.
He's probably sniffed out of his head himself.
- Would you fuck off. - Fuck off--
- Boys, boys.
Right?
I've listened to Mr. Gee's plan, okay,
and he's tight.
Now this is nothing compared to
the risk that we take out at sea.
Now Budgie, are you in?
- Come on, any volunteers?
Come on!
Come on, anyone?
- Yeah, I'm in.
- Oh lovely, come on up.
Come on, I knew you wouldn't let me down.
That's it, all the way.
Come on, don't be shy.
Come on, that's it.
Hold me hand.
Thank you, someone,
for giving me a hand.
Lovely.
And I want you to imagine a room with a clock ticking.
- Look at me.
Mr. Gee has got this all figured out.
- Nobody skips a beat,
and then we all come out of this laughing.
- And you're gonna go further and further into a trance.
- You tell Codge how much is in there.
Listen to this.
- It's half a mill in cash, maybe even a mill.
- Enough for us to set up our own fishing charter company.
Maybe even a California branch.
- Well, you should have said.
- The slight problem is that Budgie,
Budgie is our lynch-pin.
- In what possible world could that.
Oh, look at him go!
It's like Biggles, isn't it?
- Be the key player in a million pound heist operation?
- Because Budgie's the only one
close enough to Barr to nick his laptop.
- Well, this has been fun.
Clearly you've both gone a bit fucking cocoa-bananas,
and I am officially out.
Give me my fucking pills, would you?
- Already flushed them, Codge.
- You what?
- You're a fucking mess, mate.
- No, do not wave that around!
Excuse me everyone, I'm so sorry.
Right, pull that up.
Okay, lovely.
Excuse me.
Well done, well done.
Round of applause.
Come on, pull these up.
This way.
Oh, it's like last weekend!
Come on, off we go.
♪ How does it feel to be completely unreal ♪
♪ How does it feel to be a voter ♪
♪ But how does it feel to be a voluntary heel ♪
- Yes, mate.
Yeah, where abouts are you?
Mate, yeah.
Safe, I'll be there.
I'm coming.
♪ I see them queuing outside Saint Peter's gates ♪
♪ You can feel bonafide if you ride with the tide ♪
♪ But it's not real ♪
♪ And how does it feel to be out on your own ♪
♪ How does it feel to be thinking ♪
♪ And how does it feel to be out on the run ♪
- How long's he gonna be like this,
because we need him back ASAP.
- I don't know.
To be honest, it's never actually worked before.
- Budgie, mate.
Budgie, you all right?
Anyone in?
Anyone in there?
- Don't you think it's weird how
you never see vegetables in the wild.
How you go beetroot, parsnips.
I've never seen a cauliflower on a country walk before.
They've taken them,
the farmers, they have.
They've enslaved them.
- God, he's hallucinating.
He's psychotic, should I call a doctor?
- He's all right.
Good to have you back, Budgie.
- All right twats, I'm in.
- Right boys.
There's a few things I need to do before we can make a move.
So whatever it is that you need to do, get it done.
We meet at the Old Pontoon in just over an hour.
First thing for me to do is disable
the motion sensors in the safe room.
I use another member of staff's
override code to keep our names in the clear.
So after I've silenced the access alarm
and killed the CCTV system,
you'll be able to sneak in without detection.
And remember, boys,
not a word to anybody.
- Come in, mam.
- Hiya love, how did it go?
- Pretty good, thanks.
Not too quick or anything.
- I think the wrapper on the condom helped with the pacing.
- What you gonna do then?
Take Barr's money or what?
- I don't know.
What do you think?
- Well, if it means not having to stuff
red-snapper in my kegs on payday,
I know what I'd do.
But it's not my call, Budgie.
This one's on you.
- Pitbull?
I mean, Demi?
Got a plan, babes.
You're gonna blow a fucking tit off when you hear this.
- Look, before you say anything,
I know I shouldn't have left you and--
- Curly, curly?
- No, no, look.
Listen, listen.
It was a really shitty thing to do, alright?
I had a lot on my mind last night--
- Curly, stop!
Just please stop, just stop a minute.
- What?
- I know what Charlie Graham asked you to do.
I heard him.
I know you're gonna do it with him,
and I'm asking you not to.
- I seriously don't know what you're talking about.
- Please.
I've just been on the server,
and someone's just used my ID to override the CCTV network.
You promised me that you weren't gonna do anything stupid.
- Alright, I know I did but--
- But what?
What, you just wanted to shag me first?
- It's funny, that is,
because I seem to remember that
you invited me back to your flat.
- I'm gonna have to tell Mr. Barr.
You do know that, right?
He's gonna call the police.
- Why are you being so naive?
- What, by trying to help you stay out of trouble you mean?
- Well, this is obvious.
- It's theft, Curly.
- You know,
it's fine for bastards like Barr
to make money out of us, isn't it?
Then all of a sudden we lose our jobs,
and he gets to walk away richer for it, huh?
Consider this out severance payment.
- It doesn't mean that you can have it.
- Oh, I get what this is.
You think that he's gonna take you forward
in whatever bullshit plans that he's got.
You know we're no different Gilly, okay?
If Barr shuts his company down, we've got nothing.
You're just worried that if we get hold of that money,
that's gonna mess up your glorious fucking career.
- You promised.
I've gotta tell him, Demi.
They're actually gonna do this,
it's happening while we're sitting here.
- Alright, alright, alright.
Just wait a minute, please.
Put the phone down, please.
- What?
- Look, all I'm saying is that
maybe we shouldn't be so hasty about it.
Maybe we need to talk through
the pros and cons and that first?
- There are no pros, Demi!
It's theft.
Mr Barr needs that money.
- Really?
Does he really now?
I ain't buying that.
I've just lost my job, Gilly,
and I'm about to have a kid,
so don't be giving me a sob story about the owner.
He dropped us lot faster than fucking hot dog shit.
- It's not what you think.
He's trying to make Grimsby better.
- Oh aye, poor old Mr. Barr.
What a hero, my arse.
- Okay, listen up.
Just one more time, okay?
Now, phones off.
Right?
We have to get through three layers of security.
Number one, safe.
The security guard at the docks.
Codge, that's you.
Number two, the thumbprint access to the buildings.
That's Curly.
Now number three, that's the coded lock to the safe itself.
- Yeah, without which?
- None of this would happen.
- Exactly.
Now, I don't care if you're sick of hearing it.
- So when exactly do we hear
your role in the operations, Charles?
- Well, you see,
I'm what they call the brains of the operation, son.
Because I'll be the one in the spotlight
when they come a-knocking,
so I have to put as much distance
between myself and that safe as humanly possible.
- Look, he's right.
Plus he'll only hold us up.
- Yeah.
- None taken, Curly.
Now if I may be permitted to continue, Codge.
Now Mr. Barr uses software on his laptop called Safe Gen.
Remember it.
A UPRN is transmitted to the digital reader on the safe,
and the code is reset every 24 hours,
unless, unless we generate a new code,
which we will.
Or Budgie will.
Budgie?
Budgie!
- Sorry, you talking to me?
- Yeah, yeah.
Right, anyway,
that's enough of the team talk.
Budgie,
you call me as soon as you lay
hands on Barr's lappy, alright?
Curly, you're up first.
Wheezy, bez him round to Cassa's,
then drop Budgie back at his mums.
- I'll do rat runs all day long, boss.
- Now, Barr and Budgie's mum stop off
for one at Cassa's on the way home everyday like clockwork.
This is our chance to get Barr's thumbprint.
If his print shows up as the last
person to enter the building,
we're in the clear.
- Oh, look Donny!
There's one of them lazy-spas on eBay.
Fancy a bit of that don't you, Donny bear?
Hm?
Donny!
- Merci me, mon amour.
- Can I take that for you, duck?
- I've told you, I'm not done.
- No problem.
- Oh, come on!
- I thought he'd never finish it.
- Trev, you're a diamond.
This never happened though, yeah?
- Say no more.
What's this mischief you're up to then?
- You don't wanna know.
- You owe me a night out.
- Next, Budgie will nab
Barr's laptop from his briefcase,
generate a new code, and then replace it,
all in the time it takes for Mr. Barr
to play hide the schnitzel with his mum.
Just remember, Budgie,
act normal.
- Oh.
- Hi mum, I'm home!
Obviously, where I live.
Everything's normal.
Could I take your coat and bag, sir?
- Why don't you go round to Curly's, love?
Hm?
Or put the telly on loud.
- Dipshit.
- Hang on, hang on,
hang on love.
I think we need a bit of assistance, Donny Bear.
Yes, yes, come on!
Come one, come on.
Yes, yes, yes!
- Are you sure you know what you're doing here, Curls?
- I'd say very much to the contrary, Wheezy.
In fact, it's only in this moment I've realized
the gossamer thin chance we have of success.
- Yeah, well fear not comrades.
We watched a YouTube video,
didn't we, Mr. Gee?
- Wait, wait, wait, wait.
It's him, it's him, it's him.
Budgie, Budgie.
Tell me you've got the laptop?
- Yeah, I've got it.
- He's got it, he's got it, he's got it.
- It says please enter password.
- You what?
No, Barr doesn't use a password.
- Well clearly he does, Mr. Gee.
- This is well exciting.
- No, this can't.
This can't be happening, it can't.
- This, this is how it ends?
Like this?
Fucking hell, I mean,
I was at least hoping it might end like a siege.
You know, come out blazing at
the cops a la Butch Cassidy and co.
But not a desktop password, boys.
- Look, I'm telling you.
He didn't have a password when I checked.
Jesus Christ.
If somebody's blabbed, I swear to God.
- Just assume they're onto us, assume it all.
New ID's, plastic surgery.
It's time to disband, boys!
Come on.
- Peace out, girl scouts.
- Okay everyone, I'm in.
The numbers were the hard bit.
I just went with one,
two, three.
Dipshit was easy.
- Listen, listen, settle down, settle down.
Now Budgie, Budgie,
Budgie, Budgie.
Listen carefully, alright?
Now double click on the icon that says Safe Gen.
Alright, now open up the app and press generate new.
- Whoa!
- Okay, right.
Now give me the last eight digits.
Go ahead.
- Nine
four, two,
one,
four, three,
six, three.
- Okay, last one.
Press the button which says send code to safe.
- I did it.
Curly!
Curly, I did it.
It says code successfully sent to safe.
- Okay, good man.
Now listen to me carefully.
You've got to get that laptop back
where it came from fast, alright?
Wheezy's gonna come back for you now, yeah?
- Yes!
- Good lad, speak to you soon.
- Come on, yes,
yes, yes.
- I got the bloody lazy-spa!
Half bloody price and all, Donny Bear!
- This is it, lads.
All we have to do is blag our way
onto the docks without causing a stir.
Kev's as bent as a nine bob note,
and Codge's had dealings with him, shall we say.
The point is to distract him so he doesn't question
Wheezy too much as he drives onto the docks.
- Now then Codgo, you crackhead.
- Salutations, K-man.
- Got chuff all for you, son.
Waiting on a Rusky Tanker to get in.
You'll have to come back.
- You see, that's where you're all wrong,
sir, because today,
I have got something for you.
Say hello to Mamma Shmagma.
- Chuff me.
- Ah, ah!
Careful now, K-Man.
She nips like a rescue donkey with a sore arse.
- What is this, amateur hour?
Come round.
- Codge might well be doing this
to get off his fucking tits for the next six months,
but not Curly.
Curly Dean thinks he's some kind of
Robin frigging Hood or something.
He's probably doing this with some
big idea of how to save Grimsby.
I know he's full of himself,
but his heart's in the right place,
and I know Codge is a fucking wreck head,
but I don't want my kids father
in prison before it's even born.
- You alright, boys?
- No.
Budgie's farted again, man.
It's like livestock and petrol.
- I'm nervous, that's all.
- Call the boys.
Now!
- Okay, okay.
- Codge, Codge!
- How's your man?
- He poses no threat, Wheezy.
All it took was a soupcon of Horse Tranq.
- Clever!
You got horse, have you?
Right, what do I do now?
- Just do whatever getaway drivers do
when they're waiting to get away, yeah?
- Ten four, copy that.
Drive up and down looking for customers.
Regular day the office.
- Mate, what's all this about?
- It's experience, mate.
You can break into fort knox with that green shit on.
No one would bat an eyelid.
- True that.
Right, we'll buzz you when we're ready to get out.
- What's in the rucksack?
- Snacks.
- Oh God, bollocks!
Chuff me.
- Kevin, is everything okay?
- Yeah, yeah,
everything's fine, just wrapping up for the night.
- Lock up on your way out.
- See?
Mr Gee's turned the CCTV off just like he said he would.
Budgie, you stay here and keep a look out.
Codge, come on.
- Press again.
- Fuck man!
Smudged it.
Fuck.
Codge, I've fucking smudged it.
Fucking work!
- Curly, the police are coming.
- Fuck!
Fucking hell.
- Verified, thank you.
- Budgie, what the actual fuck?
- I know.
Mr. Barr had me in the offices for a bit
before I came to sea with you.
I must still be on the system.
- An office life didn't work out for you, no?
- But Curly, alright,
Mr. Barr is gonna know it's me from my thumbprint, won't he?
Curly, I don't want to go to prison.
- Budgie, no one's going to jail.
We're gonna destroy the security systems on our way out.
Look, I promise you.
Okay, come on.
- Hey, what if it's empty after all this?
- Six, three,
nine, four,
two, one,
four, six,
three.
This is it, boys.
Fucking hell!
I'll call the Wheeze machine.
- Curly, don't forget the fingerprints.
- Good point, Budge-O.
- When did you get all heist savvy?
Budgie?
- Anything?
- No, the same.
They've turned them all off.
- Give me the keys, come on.
- Budgie, just open the door.
- I can't!
- Why not?
- Because I can't let you do this.
- What the fuck are you talking about?
- Look, I'm just gonna take the money to Mr. Barr,
and then nobody is gonna go to prison.
I'm trying to save you, Codge.
I can not risk losing you.
Not both of you!
- Budgie, no one is gonna get caught.
- Look, Queenie said this was better than my idea.
- Open this fucking door, right fucking now!
- I was just gonna set first to it, alright?
Then nobody can have it.
Queenie said that might be dangerous, alright,
so I'm just gonna do this.
- Budgie, that's a really stupid idea.
Alright?
Just open the door, yeah,
and then we can all walk out of here Scott free.
- Alright, my finger opened the door.
I'm on the system, alright?
So they're gonna link me to you, and to Codge too!
- Budgie.
I swear if you don't open this
door in the next five seconds.
- Don't do this, Budge.
- I'm sorry guys.
I'm sorry Curly.
- Budgie.
Budgie mate, what was that sound?
- You mean that clicky shotgunny sort of sound?
- Yes, Budge.
What was it, Budge?
- Come on then, boys.
Give us your phones.
- Do you know what?
I always thought there was a bit
of good left in you, Mr. Gee.
Even after you traded your honor of a life on the high seas
to shine your little arse on your office chair,
but alas, you have proved me wrong.
- Yeah, well,
when you get to my age,
then maybe you can lecture me on good or bad.
But do you know what?
You've barely lived, son!
What's wrong with you?
- Mr. Graham, it's my blood sugar.
I need a snack, I've got some Mars bars in my bag.
- Mars bars?
Well go on then, hurry up.
I said hurry up!
- Do you know what?
You're gonna do down for this, Mr. Gee,
because I'm gonna tell Barr fucking everything.
- Yeah, well,
you know, you can tell him all of that,
but my guess is that that swag is so hot
that he'll not want to squeak to anybody about it.
- Do you think she's just gonna come back to you, do you?
Now you've got a few bob back in your pocket?
- Yeah.
She's going nowhere, mate.
I've heard her new bloke is rigged like a fucking moose.
- Do you know what?
You think you are so much smarter than everybody else,
but I've got news for you.
You see all this, yeah?
This is all mine, right?
You see, I'm going out with a bang,
old chum.
Reward for a life long of fucking drudgery.
- Such a noble cause, Mr. Gee!
- Well, we are who we are,
ain't we?
And I know what I am, I know who I am,
unlike you, Curly.
You're just searching for an identity,
and you've opted for a lukewarm version of your old man,
but deep down you know as well as I do
that Teapot was the real deal,
and you?
You're just playing at it, son.
- Do it, Budge.
- Plan B, Mr. Gee.
- Shit, you bastard!
Get in there now, you little bastards.
Move, get in there now.
Get in there now, now.
- You stupid little twat.
- Shit.
- Twat!
- Help, help.
- What's that smell?
Is that smoke?
No way, he's fucking torching the place.
Open the door!
Open the fucking door!
- Open the fucking door!
Open the door!
Open the fucking door.
Open the door!
Open the fucking door.
Open the door!
Mr. Gee, open the fucking door.
Open the fucking door.
- Please, Mr. Gee.
Fucking help us.
- Demi!
- We've got to get there, Gilly.
- So after all the times we thought we'd never make it home,
we die in a stupid little room in the office.
- Demi's pregnant, boys.
She's pregnant.
It's me.
I was gonna be a dad, Curly.
- Don't say that, Codge.
Don't you fucking dare say that, Codge.
Fuck!
- Hey Codge.
Demi's gonna raise that kid so good.
- Thanks Budge.
- Tell us about the dream, Codge.
Hey?
Where it is and everything.
- So.
We take a skiff out to paradise,
tap up all the tourists in Santa Cruz.
Four on a skiff, fifty bucks a go,
rods and reels thrown in.
- Braided twenty pound lines.
Congenial fucking sunshine.
- And just the faintest little whiff--
- Of tanned California fanny.
- You hold fast to that dream, Codge.
Hold fast.
- My dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
we are gathered here today to celebrate
the life of a beloved son of Grimsby.
And it is on this day,
with love in our heart and sadness in our soul,
that we bid our last farewell to this man,
who had a zest for life.
Dearly beloved of as many friends and relations,
and to the last fiber of his being,
a Trawlerman.
- I didn't want change.
But maybe change is the only thing
we can rely on in this world.
The planet spins at a thousand miles an hour,
and you can't do a thing about it.
The best you can hope for is
someone to hold onto as it spins.
To the ocean we are born, and to the ocean we must return.
- Why did they call him Teapot?
- Because my mam,
she hit him over the head with
a porcelain teapot the day she left.
That's why he wore that old wig, to cover the scar.
Probably deserved it.
- What are you gonna do?
- Job wise?
I don't know.
Make a good brew, maybe a coffee shop will have me.
- Doesn't sound like you.
Have you got a minute, Curly?
- You're right, you know.
Things change, and you have to find a way to move on.
I was just angry I suppose, you know?
Just everything related to the fishing
industry had my dad's face on it.
I just find it hard to move on, you know?
- I understand.
- Thanks for turning up.
I reckon if you hadn't,
you'd be scattering my ashes out there and all by now.
- You might be a bit of a scoundrel,
but I couldn't let you burn for that now, could I?
- Turns out Gilly's not quite
the management suck-up I thought.
- Fuck!
- Charlie?
- Gilly, thank God!
Thank God.
I was just closing up, and thing--
- Cut the bullshit, Mr. Gee.
Where's Codge?
- They're all inside.
I tried to save them, I did.
I must have turned off the fire alarm with the CCTV.
- Come on.
- Demi, it's not safe!
- Open the fucking doors, Gilly.
- I've got a better idea.
- Come on then, help me!
Oi, leave that!
Put that back!
Hey?
I said put that back, put that back now.
Oi!
- Come on, Wheezy.
- I'm on it, Gilly.
- Get them out of here fast.
- Codge, get up.
Get up Codge, come on.
Get up, get in the car.
- Wait, what about me?
- So, Curly Dean.
Tell me, what do you think we should do with it?
- Ah, Ms. Devine!
How lovely to see you again.
He's just in there.
- Grimsby has a long and rich industrial heritage.
A mutually beneficial partnership with the North Sea,
and the winds that once powered
our finest fleet of fishing vessels.
- Mr. Barr, there's no future in a fishing net.
We talked about this.
What is this?
- Hundreds of thousands of square feet
of seafood packaging premises.
And best of all,
the largest wind turbine manufacturing plant on the planet.
Free power,
subsidized almost entirely by Mr Chancellor's purse!
We all must do our bit, Ms. Devine.
- Ah, I see!
Okay, Mr. Barr,
you've made your point.
You can send the pissant politician back to Whitehall now.
I'm prepared to revisit the profit-share.
How much?
- You still don't get it, do you?
What good is money without power, Ms. Devine?
If I go along with your scheme,
I make a quick profit, sure.
But my influence in the town hall will be mediocre at best.
Whereas with this?
Yes!
This will be my empire, no less!
With limitless wind in my sails,
I will become more powerful than you can ever imagine.
Sustaining communities and reaping
the rewards from generation to generation.
Known around the world, the townspeople will worship me.
My name will be whispered at every
door along the halls of power.
Oh, and not only that,
not only...
Ms. Devine?
- Mr. Barr?
What are you doing?
- Make it quick, Gilly.
I've have the Telegraph coming in.
They want to interview the man
who's putting Grimsby back on the map.
Me!
- Ah, of course.
- Mr. Barr, it was actually me who wanted to speak to you.
- Oh.
Well get on with it, lad.
- Mr. Barr.
Look, it was me--
- Mr. Barr, we just both wanted
to say good luck with the new venture.
- Well, we'll need plenty of hard workers,
so keep in touch, Curly.
- Look, I don't think you understand--
- No, no,
come on, come on.
- Gilly, just a minute.
- Yes, Mr. Barr?
- I just wanted to have a quick chat if you have the time.
About the cash.
- Cash?
- Yes, the cash that that terrible
Charlie tried to steal from me.
The cash that unfortunately perished in the fire.
As cash indeed would.
- Mr. Barr?
- I just thought you'd be interested to know
the insurer's paid out in full on the building.
In fact, we made a bit of a killing.
- That's a relief, Mr. Barr.
- Yes, isn't it?
Winners all round.
- Are you alright, Gilly?
- Yeah.
Yeah, I think so.
- What's happening?
I thought you said me confessing was the right thing to do.
- I just wanted to know that you would, if needed.
- Come in!
- Mr. Barr?
- Huh?
- Just wanted to let you know we've recovered
some more data from the access log.
There's one entry an hour before
Gilly Simpson's thumb-print.
- Whose?
- Uh...
Daniel Budgell?
- Dipshit?
- I'm just gonna...
♪ One of these days it's gonna tear you apart ♪
- But what I've learned is that I'm utterly
powerless in the face of my addiction.
I've, um...
I've lied to the people I love.
For some reason or another, I got another chance,
and now I'm not gonna waste it.
Not today.
- Yeah, yeah,
that is brilliant!
Bitcoin's perfect for us.
Yeah.
- It's tempting, mate.
But I'm trying to make amends.
Not really sure this is how you go about it.
Demi don't wanna know me,
but the least I can do is be around for the kid.
- Well you're not gonna be, are you?
You see, if the kid's with Demi,
and Demi's with us, crushing it in Santa Cruz,
then how the hell are you gonna be on hand for the kid?
- Did you find your balls then,
or do you want me to have a look?
There's room for one more in here.
- What do you reckon, mate?
We're gonna go and live the life?
- We couldn't save the fishing industry in Grimsby.
No one could.
See, truth be told,
it's a miracle that Barr stuck it out for so long.
And to the man's credit,
Barr really did put Grimsby back on the map,
as a turbine manufacturing extravaganza,
bringing joy, money,
and merriment back to the shores of old Grim once again.
And you can walk along the boats,
from one side of Grimsby to the other,
albeit on those glorified life rafts,
looking like a twat in a hi-vis jumpsuit and a silly hat.
To the ocean we are born, and to the ocean we must return.
♪ You're there in the turnstiles ♪
♪ With the wind at your heels ♪
♪ You stretch for the stars ♪
♪ And you know how it feels to reach too high ♪
♪ Too far ♪
♪ Too soon ♪
♪ You saw the whole of the moon ♪
♪ I was grounded ♪
♪ While you filled the skies ♪
♪ I was dumbfounded by truth ♪
♪ You cut through lies ♪
- Come on, Donny Bear.
We've got an empty house now, just like we always wanted.
- Fair play, Dipshit.
♪ You saw the whole of the moon ♪
♪ I spoke about wings ♪
♪ You just flew ♪
♪ I wondered ♪
♪ I guess that I tried ♪
♪ You just knew I sighed ♪
♪ That you swore that ♪
♪ I saw the crescent ♪
♪ You saw the whole of the moon ♪
♪ The whole of the moon ♪
♪ The torch in your pocket ♪
♪ And the wind at your heels ♪
♪ You climbed on the ladder ♪
♪ And you know how it feels to get too high ♪
♪ Too far ♪
♪ Too soon ♪
♪ You saw the whole of the moon ♪
♪ The whole of the moon ♪
♪ Hey yeah ♪
♪ Unicorns and cannonballs ♪
♪ Palaces and piers ♪
♪ Trumpets, towers and tenements ♪
♪ Wide oceans full of tears ♪
♪ Flags, rags ♪
♪ Ferryboats ♪
♪ Cylinders and scarves ♪
♪ Everything ♪
♪ Just dream a vision underneath the stars ♪
♪ Yes, you climbed on the ladder ♪
♪ With the wind in your sails ♪
♪ You came like a comet ♪
♪ Blazing your trail ♪
♪ Too high ♪
♪ Too far ♪
♪ Too soon ♪
♪ You saw the whole of the moon ♪