Driving around Liverpool in the perennial december rain. Ringo behind the wheel, the fab three looking out the window, blurred images of the town they know so well. When they arrive at the waterfront it is raining so hard they can´t get out of the car. Paul is humming a melody and John starts to sing, „if the rain comes they run and hide their heads, they might as well be dead if the rain comes, if the rain comes...“. We should call ourselves the Rainbirds, George says, whenever it is raining we start singing. Right? It is always raining. Without the rain we wouldn´t even have a band. If the sun was shining the whole day, we had not written a single song. We need the rain. We are not the Beach boys. We are from Liverpool!