#wedding bells are breaking up the old gang of mine

[tavolgisvist]

And there were a few massage stories that I used to tell in concert, because I’ve had some pretty wild massages, and when I say ‘wild’ I mean funny wild, not sexual. There was one in Japan where the girl came in and said, ‘Please lie on floor,’ so I lay on the floor, and she was giving me a massage. I started relaxing, but then suddenly she started to sing, ‘Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.’ I’m going, ‘Oh shit, where do I put myself now. Can’t I escape this anywhere?’ Thank God she didn’t know the middle eight.

(Paul McCartney about Girls’ School, The Lyrics, 2021)

John: Thank you for playing Paul's tune to me, it's very nice of you, wonderful, thank you. I always get it. I sat in a restaurant in Spain and the violinist insisted on playing Yesterday right in my ear. Then he ask me to sign the violin and I was… I didn't know what to say. I say, well actually, I say okay and signed it and Yoko signed it… One day he's going to find out that Paul wrote it. Dick Cavett: That's better then if he'd played Wedding Bells Are Breaking Up The Old Gang Of Mine…

(Dick Cavett Show Interviews 11 Sep 1971)

George (and Ringo) June 9th, 1970, during All Things Must Pass sessions:

‘Wedding Bells’ is what it was. ‘Wedding bells are breaking up that old gang of mine.’ We used to sing that song, Gene Vincent did it. It was like an army song and for us the Beatles became the army. We always knew that one day ‘Wedding Bells’ would come true, and that was when it did.

(Paul McCartney, Oct 1986, interview with Chris Salewicz for Q Magazine)

[ilovedig]

George covered this for the ATMP sessions.

And it fit his life sooo well at the time.

Sometimes I feel weird for thinking about songs in terms of ships, but then I remembered that John and Paul did exactly the same about themselves, so 🤷🏼‍♀️

As I said, I had already begun to want to leave, but when I met Yoko is like when you meet your first woman. You leave the guys at the bar. You don't go play football anymore. You don't go play snooker or billiards. Maybe some guys do it on Friday night or something, but once I found the woman, the boys became of no interest whatsoever other than being old school friends. 'Those wedding bells are breaking up that old gang of mine.' We got married three years later, in 1969. That was the end of the boys. And it just so happened that the boys were well known and weren't just local guys at the bar.

John Lennon, Playboy interview with David Sheff, 1980

I remember thinking of it like army buddies. One of the songs we used to love in the past was 'Wedding Bells'... ‘Those wedding bells are breaking up that old gang of mine’... and this idea that you'd been army buddies but one day you have to kiss the army goodbye and go and get married and act like normal people. It was a bit like that for the Beatles - we always knew that day had to come.

Paul McCartney, The Beatles Anthology, 1995

Not a soul down on the corner That's a pretty certain sign Those weddin' bells are breakin' up That old gang of mine All the boys are singin' love songs They forgot "Sweet Adeline" Those weddin' bells are breakin' up That old gang of mine

Well, there goes Jack There goes Jim Strollin' down lovers' lane Now and then we meet again But then it don't seem the same Life gets that lonesome feelin' When I hear the church bells ring Those weddin' bells are breakin' up That old gang of mine

[paulscunt]

[estrangedfiances]

congratulations george harrison for being the funniest person ever

[cecyvelky]

[camphorror]

Eeeef🤒🤒

[ghostie111]

Wedding Bells (Are Breaking Up That Old Gang Of Mine)

When he made a come back on Dandelion in 1969. The result was truly awful a sort of country singer.

[thereallovebug]

Cue the song, “Wedding Bells Are Breaking Up That Old Gang of Mine” 😭😭😭

Sherlock Holmes [2009] dir. Guy Ritchie

[a-a-a-anon]

not a lot of people care about the prophecy anymore but here are my headcanons for a chardee macdennis double wedding:

they had to get married in a joint wedding, obviously. neither party would agree to getting married after the other. the topic was brought up and it led to hours of fighting and the threat of arbitration. each party presented their case to frank so he would be a deal breaker and pick who would get married first, but frank refused to get into that mess. they eventually agreed to do a simultaneous wedding

they frantically plan the wedding in one night, treating it like another scheme. during the course of that night they realize they don't really know a lot of people to invite. in the end dennis is appointed as dee's bridesman and dee as dennis' groomsmaid. mac's appointed as charlie's groomsman and charlie as his. they’re really pretending to treat it like a civilized affair. it's franks job to finance and to walk dennis and dee down the aisle (he's really involving himself for mac and charlie's sake. mac because he's proud of him because of MFHP and charlie because he's been his best friend for the last 20 years. he still thinks the twins are bastard crackheads)

they have 4 separate bachelor/bachelorette parties which are like mini versions of dee/charlie/mac/dennis days. frank complains he should be getting a party too and the gang yells at him that only people getting married get bachelor/bachelorette parties.

on the wedding day, the twins get ready together and charmac get ready together:

the twins are snide - "jesus christ sweet dee u should've gotten something with sleeves. that dress does nothing for ur fat bird arms" "well that blazer makes u look like a duck. it's too small" (she's right, the lapel bulges. for a moment dennis stops applying mascara:) "wha- i- why would you say something like that to a man on his wedding day..." or something like that. they're also weirdly competitive and are trying to have a Better wedding than the other, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve in a joint wedding

charlie and mac are in the other room, incredibly anxious and sweaty and trying to keep each other from freaking out. they're trying to huff glue without getting any on their tuxes. dee made mac promise he won't let charlie eat so much cheese before the wedding because it makes his breath repugnant. mac ignores this and actually decides to try stress eating cheese too in an attempt to quell his pre wedding anxiety. they also helped each other dress in their tuxes (they’re used to getting someone from a non-'white trash' background to help them dress for fancy events)

dee's vows include a bunch of bad dirty jokes, tailor written for the occasion. they are groan inducing

before the wedding, charlie was afraid his vows wouldn't come out good (because sometimes words get blocked up in his mouth and he don't say it no good). he felt pressured to write something and writing words in itself is scary to him. in the end, he does a short simple sweet song for his vows. he got artemis (artemis is there, obviously) to pull out a keyboard when he cued her.

a good chunk of his vows dennis devotes to himself

mac pulls out a goddamn STACK of cue cards when it's his turn to say his vows. the gang expects a repeat of the Gang Texts situation where mac has way too much to say. instead it plays out like this post

during the wedding frank does a speech for all of them and it's just like his awkward speech on the boat in thunder gun express. he somehow brings up the topics of the waitress and mandy and banging etc and the gang is like COME ON FRANK

afterwards they play chardee macdennis and all the fantastic points in this post takes place

none of them spend their ‘first night as a married couple’ uh consummating their marriage or anything. no, they get hospitalized because chardee macdennis always ends in disaster

and a bonus crack idea: artemis gets called in as frank’s emergency contact and the gang is like oh? we didn’t know she was your emergency contact. frank replies that of course she is, the wife is always the emergency contact. he nonchalantly explains he got married that morning before all of them. the gang is greatly angered because they had a whole discussion on who should get married first and they had agreed to do a Thing! but they’re stuck in their crutches/beds/neck braces/etc and are incapable of unleashing their fury on frank without immense pain (not that this stops them from attempting to do so)

and afterwards frank promises them ice cream or something

[no-reply95]

John and Yoko (Jan 1969):

“Yay, now both our divorces have come through, we’re both free!!!!”

John and Yoko (Feb - Mar 11 1969)

��

John and Yoko (12 Mar 1969)

Paul and Linda: *Get married*

John: “We need to get married NOW!!!”

Yoko: “Any particular reason, now?”

John and Yoko (12 - 20 Mar 1969)

[phoneybeatlemania]

Do you think Paul blamed/s himself for the Beatles breakup? It’s interesting because he definitely denied being the cause at the time and still asserts to this day that John was the one who broke them up, but he also has said a few times that he blamed himself and thought he was the villain.

Hiya anon—this is a fantastic question, if I do say so myself!

When it comes to whether Grandude!Paul still blames himself for the groups breakup, I don’t think so. It was somehow breaking news last year when Paul said ‘John broke up the band’ (to the surprise of None Of Us)—and while I know we can’t always interpret what people say literally or take every comment as an absolute truth, I am inclined to believe he really means this. 

With time and retrospect, I think he’s been able to find insight on Johns mentalities and behaviours, which has allowed him to see that there just wasn’t a lot he could do to prevent the groups breakup. In a lot of his later interviews following Johns death, he’s discussed Johns various childhood traumas, and recognises that these things influenced him, marking him with a lifelong insecurity. In his interview with Chris Salewicz, he says: 

It’s all starting to click a bit in my brain. I just figured, “Oh, there’s John, my buddy, and he’s turning on me.” He once said to me, “Oh, they’re all on the McCartney bandwagon.” Things like that were hurting him, and looking back on it now I just think that it’s a bit sad really.

While in a lot of interviews he might cite John’s relationship with Yoko as being the source of the breakup (John was moving onto newer and better things, everyone was growing up, those wedding bells are breaking up that old gang of mine), I suspect that this is more of a cover-story, and that beneath this he probably recognises it was John’s insecurity that was more the root cause of the problem (though keep in mind, that’s just my opinion on this). And so I think learning to sympathise with John better has allowed him to find clarity on their fallout, and to recognise which of his behaviours were genuinely hurtful, and which of them speak more to Johns own internal struggles.

But that’s modern-day-macca, so now I wanna talk a little about breakup era McCartney.

I think in a way he both did and didn’t blame himself. 

You have songs like Too Many People where he’s singing “That was your first mistake/you took your lucky break and broke it in two”, which effectively says: you broke up the group John; that was your mistake, not mine. And then there’s also songs like Maxwells Silver Hammer where he describes through use of metaphor that this is a bad thing happening to him, but he isn’t the one causing the ruin (props to @idontwanttospoiltheparty for enlightening me to this quote): 

‘Maxwell’s Silver Hammer’ was my analogy for when something goes wrong out of the blue, as it so often does, as I was beginning to find out at that time in my life. I wanted something symbolic of that, so to me it was some fictitious character called Maxwell with a silver hammer. I don’t know why it was silver, it just sounded better than Maxwell’s hammer. It was needed for scanning. We still use that expression even now when something unexpected happens.’

— Many Years From Now by Barry Miles (x)

I think these things illustrate for us that a big part of him didn’t blame himself for the breakup, and that he recognised early on that it was largely out of his control. 

But then I also think a part of himself did burden himself with the blame, in-part because people were telling him it was his fault, and in-part because Id expect his little I Can Fix Him brain would have felt like he could have done more. 

You have John in interviews expressing his frustrations in working with Paul (ie. “He wanted it to be more a group thing, which really means more Paul. So he never liked that album, and I always preferred it to all the other albums, including Pepper, because I thought the music was better”), George citing similar complaints, and then of course sprinkle in the business-fiascos, and what you probably end up with are some regrets. 

So my guess is he probably ended up swinging between the frustrations of ‘I should have done more’ and ‘I did what I could’. 

I think an interesting quote on this comes from the aforementioned 1986 interview with Chris Salewicz, where he says: 

I’m beginning to think it wasn’t all my fault. I’m beginning to let myself off a lot of the guilt. I always felt guilty but looking back on it I can say okay, let’s try and outline some things. John was hurt; what was he hurt by? What is the single biggest thing that we can find in all our research that hurt John? And the biggest thing that I can find is that I told the world that the Beatles were finished. I don’t think that’s so hurtful. 

In a way, maybe this is where most of the blame comes from—that something went wrong, but he couldn’t quite figure out what that something was (“Oh, there’s John, my buddy, and he’s turning on me.”). Im always surprised when I see people on here place most of the blame onto Paul or say that he hurt John in one-way-or-another, because to me it always seems that Johns reasonings are rather cryptic on this. I don’t doubt that John did feel hurt or offended by Paul at the time, but it seems there’s very little Paul intentionally did to hurt him. Especially since he did seem to try to change behaviours the others found hurtful or annoying—for example, making efforts to more carefully consider Georges work in the later period.

So I think that confusion felt around the breakup is what largely caused the feeling of blame for him. That people were telling him he did all these things he did to hurt John and the others, but he couldn’t quite grasp what it was that was so hurtful about his behaviour (that is until later years, where as I mentioned before, he came to better understand John struggles and insecurities). 

[eppysboys]

"Once I found the woman, the boys became of no interest whatsoever, other than they were like old friends. You know: 'Hi, how are you? How's your wife?' That kind of thing. You know the [Gene Vincent] song: 'Those wedding bells are breaking up that old gang of mine.' Well, it didn't hit me till whatever age I was when I met Yoko ... that was it. The old gang of mine was over the moment I met her" -  John Lennon, Interview with Rolling Stone, 1980

“‘Wedding Bells’ is what it was. ‘Wedding bells are breaking up that old gang of mine.’ We used to sing that song, Gene Vincent did it. It was like an army song and for us the Beatles became the army. We always knew that one day ‘Wedding Bells’ would come true, and that was when it did.” - Paul McCartney, Interview with Chris Salewicz, 1986

[oskarlevant]

The Four Pitchickers - “Wedding Bells (Are Breaking Up that Old Gang of Mine)”

Performed live at the Veterans Memorial Auditorium in Columbus, Ohio during the Barbershop Harmony Society's International Convention of 1958.

[kreekey]

Wedding Bells Are Breaking Up That Old Gang of Mine

Chapter 1/1

Pairing: Linda McCartney/Paul McCartney, John Lennon/Yoko Ono,  John Lennon & Paul McCartney

Genre: Fluff

Words:  2391

Summary: That title may sound a bit melancholic given the real context, but all things must come to an end. It’s funny to see the person you’ve known your whole life only begin to settle into themself. There’s a moment of fondness leading up to the split. 

Is ‘fondness’ the right word? 

It’s pretty amicable, anyway. 

Two different kinds of couples have a night together. It’s like a dinner party, except the (Ono) Lennons aren’t really sure how to throw a dinner party. Conversation is had. John entertains the idea of a soon-to-be Beatle breakup. Paul refuses to get his head drilled into. Everyone has found somebody to love.

(See the AO3 Post for author’s notes)

John’s apartment - I guess it’s Yoko’s now, too - was already littered. It was no different from the closets we used to live out of in Hamburg, except this one must’ve cost a few thousand pounds. They had just moved in and half the floorboards were hidden underneath newspaper clippings, clothing, and dirty plates. At least they had the courtesy to move some of the piles against the wall before we came over.

Not that it eased Linda at all. We sat with our knees bumping against each other and hand over hand. I whispered sweet jokes to her in the living room as we waited - I don’t know why I whispered. It was only John’s flat. His home. It didn’t feel like a home, of course. It felt a bit like an alley you might find yourself in after a night of drinking. Funny, considering I used to live in this same building a couple of years ago. Things have changed since then.

Yoko’s bare feet padded in from the kitchen. She smiled in a way that rivalled Mona Lisa, saying, “The food is ready.”

I took Linda’s hand as we stood and followed Yoko down the short hall. She walked with care, making every step deliberate. It all felt very formal for a visit to an old friend’s house.

We stepped into the dining room and found John sat cross-legged on one of the dining chairs. There was a smile underneath all that hair he’s grown out. Two sturdy seats sat across from each other at an intimate wooden table. He beckoned us with the signature Lennon confidence, saying, “Come, sit.” Yoko took his hand and he guided her into the seat beside him. They reminded me of one of those old couples who’ve known each other for decades.

As we settled into our seats, Linda and I gave each other a glance after noticing the food. It could barely be considered dinner. An opened bottle of champagne stood proudly in the centre, surrounded by plates of crackers and half-hazardous dollops of caviar. There was a bowl of a thousand different kinds of foreign cooked vegetables dressed with pepper. At least now I could be sure there was food in John’s house. He seemed so fragile and thin nowadays. Of course, he’s the same fiery Lennon he’s always been. I think.

John reached out for a cracker and he leaned on the table, saying, “Me and Yoko have got ourselves on this macrobiotic diet. I hope you like it, it’s good for you. Gets rid of toxins and all that.” He stuffed his mouth with a biscuit.

“‘‘Macrobiotic’?” I laughed. “I still remember you sneaking Eric’s chocolate at the studio.”

He smiled, “That’s the old me, Paul.”

“We were at the studio this time last year,” I reminded him. That nice familiarity that always came to me whenever I visited John began to creep up. “Eric was yelling at George because his truffle was gone, but you fessed - eventually - that it was you all along.”

“Sometimes John will still slip and eat a chocolate bar,” Yoko said airily with that same enigmatic smile, hands folded in her lap. “But the point is that it’s very healthy. We eat grains and vegetables, you know, that kind of thing. It’s very, very good. That’s why we do it.”

John hummed chirpily, teasing us with his raised eyebrows. Linda put on a weak polite smile for them before staring at the plates. She rarely knew what to say to Yoko. I mean, we know she’s mostly harmless. She’s just from another world. I grabbed Linda’s glass and poured the champagne, nudging her for reassurance. She scooted her chair closer to mine until our knees started bumping again.

We ate sparingly and drank freely. John and I made conversation about nothing memorable, catching up on our intertwined lives. Linda would chime in with something smart before returning to listening. Trying to keep up with a conversation with John makes anyone a bit disquiet. Yoko would often watch, occasionally regaling us with an explanation for something we didn’t know we wondered. Her ideas always had John turning in admiration or ferocious agreement. As the drinks kept flowing, I even began to seriously consider some of their proposals.

“Wait, d’you remember the letter I sent from Amsterdam, Paul? You fancy getting the trepanning thing done?” John brought up after a mention of their peace demonstrations.

Linda and I gave each other a look. John’s letters during his honeymoon were often illegible. Even when you could make the words out, he never made sense.

“You kind of have a hole bored into your skull and it relieves the pressure,” John explained in an instant upon seeing our expressions. He seemed eager, almost bouncing in his chair. My wife gaped at me, eyes widened. I shrugged. It was kind of amusing.

Linda spoke straight to Yoko the first time this night and gawked, “Hold on, do you believe this?”

“We’re always looking for new ways to expand our consciousness,” Yoko replied without the slightest inflection in her voice. I swear I could tell her smile opening up the slightest bit. She giggled softly, “But John is more focused on this method than I am.”

It’s almost startling to hear her laugh. Yoko turned into a sliver less of a mystery. Linda and I made eyes at each other, lips curling upwards. Before we knew it, we were dissolving into laughter. I almost forgot about the people across the table. Linda looked lovely, just like herself, a blush colouring her face as she cracked up without a care. Yoko tittered along shyly, gazing at her husband.

John continued with a wide grin. He gripped the table and leaned in closer. “No, this isn’t a joke! All you’d have to do is just bore a little hole in your skull and it lets the pressure off. We met a doctor in Amsterdam, and he has a paper on it. A scientific paper, a real one. You could get a permanent high from this!”

Linda leaned over and laid her head on my shoulder with a content sigh. It could’ve been a tired one. Wrapping my arm around her and pulling her closer, I replied, “C’mon, Johnny. You must be joking.”

“No, no! Listen, let’s go next week. We know a guy who can do it, and maybe we can all do it together!” John gestured with his hands like he was bursting with genius ideas. I half-expected him to shout ‘Eureka!’.

“Look, you go and have it done, and if it works, great,” I grinned. “Tell us about it and we’ll all have it.” Linda hummed in agreement.

John threw his hands up, saying, “Oh, fine, fine. You’re too cynical about things like this - ”

“Thank God,” I interrupted. Linda almost guffawed.

He gestured to me with another cracker, “You’re no fun anymore, Paulie.”

My wife relaxed against my body, radiating warmth, and looked back across the table. It felt sweet coupled with my drunk buzz. She said, “I just think that there’s so much crap that you’ve got to be careful of.”

“But John’s more open to things like that,” I winked at him, wanting my cheeky smile to push his buttons. His eyes narrowed at mine, though the rest of his face stayed nonchalant. The room turned silent and I realized all eyes were on John, waiting for his usual witty response. Yoko looked at him, unfocused, not a hint of a frown on her face. John bounced his leg in thought.

“Well, whether you believe it or not…” John finally said, a degree colder than usual. “Either way, I don’t resent ye for it - I don’t resent your husband, Linda,” he turned to her. “I feel sorry for him.”

Linda didn’t let her surprise show. John Lennon could catch most people off guard in a snap - not me. She began to sputter before I cut in heartily, “That’s very kind of you, Lennon!”

John chuckled, “No, really, McCartney. If you say no, you mean no. It’s very kind of you not to call me fuckin’ crazy.”

“It’s just not something I would like to do, Johnny. But you let me know how it is,” I said, squeezing Linda closer out of habit. John nodded, turning his eyes elsewhere as if it’s all exasperated him.

“I think John wanted to put some pressure off. For both of us, you know,” Yoko said. Her voice was smooth and delicate, almost jarring compared to the madness a few moments prior. “We are the only people going through the same problems.”

I wondered, ‘What do you say to that’?

But John seemed to know. John understood her, something most people couldn’t do. I’ve been aware of her for three years now. I never really got on that well with her.

“We’re in the same position. Our fame, y'know, the people we know. And The Beatles… for now, I mean. Until you release that album of yours, Paul.” John turned his eyes back on mine.

“Well, the recordings’ going well,” Linda said with a sense of nerves.

“What do you do in the album? It’s refreshing to see another woman working on the album of a Beatle. And you know, when Beatles are recording, there’s very few people around, especially no women,” Yoko said. John gave me an empty look before returning to face his wife. Memories of asking Yoko to go sit in the back of the studio - an act I used to try to hide from John like a dirty affair - flooded our minds. I ignored that thought.

“Strictly speaking she harmonizes,” I answered. As I stared down at her I found myself admiring every feature - as always.

I continued, “But of course it’s more than that. She’s a shoulder to lean on, a second opinion… and a photographer of renown.” She glowed when I kissed the top of her head. I looked back up at the Ono-Lennons, beaming with pride.

“Cor, replaced me already?” John jested. I made an affirming sound, taking another sip of champagne with my free hand.

“Yer killing us, y’know. The band. I don’t understand. I’m not ashamed of The Beatles,” John shook his head. “I did start it all!”

“Well, I’m doing what you and Yoko were doing last year. I understand what you did, now.” I said. It’s stupid to defend it. I shouldn’t have to, it’s only an album.

“Will Paul and Linda become a John and Yoko?” John used that mock-deep voice, the kind he uses when he jeers at the media.

“No. They will become Paul and Linda.” My wife melted in my touch as I wrapped my other arm around her. She looked up at me with a smile.

“Hmm,” John half-lidded his eyes. “Good luck to yer.”

We went on with the evening, skipping over any unmentionables. Linda and I would try to, anyway. John and Yoko didn’t mind. It went well, I imagine. I love them - I know that I love John. I respect him, at least. And John loves her, and there’s nothing to be done for it.

They waved us goodbye at some point early in the morning. As we walked onto the street, Yoko stood with John in the flat’s doorframe, hand on his chest. His arm snaked around her waist. They were so small, so compact. Like they made their own bubble. Impenetrable. There was ‘John and Yoko’ and there was the rest of the world. All that ‘interconnectedness of the whole human race’ (or whatever’s said these days) was hard to sense sometimes. Really, though, they must be in love. I can’t say there’s anything wrong with that.

I gripped Linda’s hand, leading us away. Our steps were uneven, unsure, but we leaned on each other throughout the cold walk back to Cavendish.

“'Trepanning’ - was he really sitting there saying we should do this?” Linda muttered in disbelief. When she looked up at me, there was a smile on her face. She was glad to say what she wanted, especially with me.

I laughed, “Well, John always wanted to jump over the ‘cliff’ - “

“The 'cliff’?” she questioned. It wasn’t in the way some girls used to question me, twirling their hair as if they still didn’t know anything, only to flirt. Linda wasn’t coy. Linda knew who she was, and she knew me.

“Y’know, the cliff,” I said, confident that the explanation will be a tad silly. “The cliff - going full tilt. He once said that to me. 'Have you ever thought of jumping?’ I said, 'Fuck off. You jump, and tell me how it is.'”

Her shoulders shook from laughter, still gazing up at me.

“That’s basically the difference between us.” I motion with my head. “I love John, and respect what he does - though he doesn’t really give me any pleasure. Not with his, y’know, kooky ideas. I get tired from it all.”

“‘Tired’? Oh, Paul.” She squeezed my hand.

“Sorry. I don’t like it either, getting tired.” I sighed. “It makes it all harder.”

“It’s allowed, you know,” she said, sinking into me. “Allow yourself to be tired.”

A smile warmed up onto my face. I nodded gently because she was right.

Linda continued to relax against me, the way I found myself letting go of my worries when I was with her. It felt silly, being in love and feeling like you were 16 and discovering that giddiness again. But it was perfect. She’s the perfect thing to end the night with after a dinner like that. Just the person I need - that I always need. Not that the Ono-Lennons aren’t pleasant - but they’ve turned a hint unfamiliar. They were something that I didn’t want to handle. Linda lifted it all away.

We continued stumbling down the road, mumbling sweet conversation to each other. Reminiscing about the night we just had, giggling at old jokes again. She let go of my hand and wrapped herself around my arm, entangling us further. I wouldn’t mind if this moment lasted forever. I’d go down any path with her. It didn’t matter, because she would always be there; she’s a shoulder to lean on, a second opinion, and someone who believes in me - constantly. I didn’t know how much I needed that.

[freebooter4ever]

the wildest part they left out from with the old breed: “As we moved toward the smaller ‘lobster claw,’ Snafu chanted, 'Oh, them mortar shells are bustin’ up that ole gang of mine,’ to the tune of 'Those Wedding Bells Are Breaking Up That Old Gang of Mine.’”....like...can you imagine....after snafu asks eugene for a cigarette and thanks him...he then just starts singing a song about how all his male bffs are getting married and he is lonely, but then changes the words to be about all his male bffs dying...

[thecoleopterawithana]

I’ve already mentioned how in September 1969 we were in a meeting and talking about future plans, and John said, ‘Well, I’m not doing it. I’m leaving. Bye.’ In the ensuing moments, he was giggling and saying how this felt really thrilling, like telling someone you’re going to divorce them and then laughing. At the time, obviously, that was wildly hurtful. Talk about a knockout blow. You’re lying on the canvas, and he’s giggling and telling you how good it feels to have just knocked you out. It took a while, but I suppose I eventually got with the programme. This was my best mate from my youth, the collaborator with whom I’d done some of the best work of the twentieth century (he said, modestly). If he fell in love with this woman, what did that have to do with me? Not only did I have to let him do it, but I had to admire him for doing it. That was the position I eventually reached. There was nothing else I could do but be cool with it.

Paul McCartney, on “Get Back”. In The Lyrics (2021).