Beatles Lyric Quotes

And, in the end The love you take is equal to the love you make.

We all shine on...like the moon and the stars and the sun...we all shine on...come on and on and on...

Close your eyes and I'll kiss you, Tomorrow I'll miss you.

Nothing is real.

When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be. And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer, let it be. For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see, there will be an answer. let it be. Let it be, let it be, ..... And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light, that shines on me, shine until tomorrow, let it be. I wake up to the sound of music, mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. Let it be, let it be, .....

Take these broken wings and learn to fly.

The sun is up, the sky is blue It's beautiful, and so are you

I get by with a little help from my friends

Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come.

I once had a girl, or should I say she once had me.

He's a real nowhere man, Sitting in his Nowhere Land, Making all his nowhere plans for nobody. Doesn't have a point of view, Knows not where he's going to, Isn't he a bit like you and me?

We could argue about what constitutes the creepiest line in pop music, but for me it's early Beatles- John Lennon, actually- singing 'I'd rather see you dead, little girl, than to be with another man.

And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make...

All you need is love...love is all you need.

Then, lifting me up, his head fell back and he opened his mouth wide. “Once I let Lucy Larson into my heart! I was able to take my sad, shitty song and make it better!” he sung, off key and at full volume. Some of the students around us tipped their beers at him, some broke in during the “Nah, nah, nah,” chorus, and a few looked at him like he was a crazy man. But I just laughed—I already knew he was crazy. And I loved him for it. “I think that’s called taking creative liberties with the lyrics.

Noah held his hand out. She accepted it - it was bone-cold, as always - and together they turned to face the huge room. Noah took a deep breath as if they were preparing to explore the jungle instead of stepping deeper into Monmouth Manufacturing. It seemed bigger with just the two of them there. The cobwebbed ceiling soared, dust motes making mobiles overhead. They turned their heads sideways and read the titles of the books aloud. Blue peered at Henrietta through the telescope. Noah daringly reattached one of the broken miniature roofs on Gansey's scale town. They went through the fridge tucked in the bathroom. Blue selected a soda. Noah took a plastic spoon. He chewed on it as Blue fed Chainsaw a leftover hamburger. They closed Ronan's door - if Gansey still managed to inhabit the rest of the apartment, Ronan's presence was still decidedly pervasive in his room. Noah showed Blue his room. They jumped on his perfectly made bed and then they played a bad game of pool. Noah lounged on the new sofa while Blue persuaded the old record player to play an LP too clever to interest either of them. They opened all the drawers on the desk in the main room. One of Gansey's EpiPens bounced against the interior of the topmost drawer as Blue withdrew a fancy pen. She copied Gansey's blocky handwriting onto a Nino's receipt as Noah put on a preppy sweater he'd found balled under the desk. She ate a mint leaf and breathed on Noah's face. Crouching, they crab-walked along the aerial printout Gansey had spread the length of the room. He'd jotted enigmatic notes to himself all along the margin of it. Some of them were coordinates. Some of them were explanations of topography. Some of them were Beatles lyrics.

Well, the way you'd been, old lady I could see the fear in your windows Under your furry crawling brow A silver bow rings up in inches You were afraid you'd be the devil's red wife But it's alright, God dug your dance And would have you young and in his harum

The "four angels" were the Beatles, whom Manson considered ""leaders, spokesmen, prophets," according to Gregg. The line "And he opened the bottomless pit...And there came out of the smoke locusts upon the earth; and unto them was given power..." was still another reference to the English group, Gregg said. Locusts - Beatles - one and the same. "Their faces were as the faces of men," yet "they had hair as the hair of women." An obvious reference to the long-haired musicians. Out of the mouths of the four angles "issued fire and brimstone." Gregg: "This referred to the spoken words, the lyrics of the Beatles' songs, the power that came out of their mouths.

...(in the past I would listen to a record three, five, ten times running, waiting for something that never happened). A book offers more deliverance, more escape, more fulfilment of desire. In songs one remains locked in desire. (The lyrics are not that important, only the melody matters; so I understood nothing of what the Platters or the Beatles were saying.) There are no places, no scenes, no characters, only oneself and one’s longing. Yet the very starkness and paucity of music allow me to recall a whole episode of my life and the girl I used to be when I listen to I’m Just a Dancing Partner thirty years later. Whereas the beauty and fullness of The Beautiful Summer and In Search of Lost Time, which I have reread two or three times, can never give me back my life.

His most influential song, “Matchbox Blues,” popularized an image that had first appeared in one of Rainey’s lyrics and would be recycled by everyone from Billie Holiday to Sam Cooke, Carl Perkins, and the Beatles: “I’m sitting here wondering, will a matchbox hold my clothes / I ain’t got so many matches, but I’ve got so far to go.

When, in a generation or so, a radioactive cigar-smoking child, picnicking on Saturn, asks you what the Beatles affair was all about – ‘Did you actually know them?’ – don’t try to explain all about the long hair and screams. Just play the child a few tracks from this album and he’ll probably understand what it is all about. The kids of AD 2000 will draw from the music much the same sense of well being and warmth as we do today. For the magic of the Beatles, is I suspect, timeless and ageless. It has broken all frontiers and barriers. It has cut through differences of race, age and class. It is adored by the world. Derek Taylor, sleeve notes for the Beatles For Sale album, 1964

One of the things I always thought was the secret of The Beatles was that our music was self-taught. We were never consciously thinking of what we were doing. Anything we did came naturally. A breathtaking chord change wouldn't happen because we knew how that chord related to another chord. We weren't able to read music or write it down, so we just made it up. My dad was exactly the same. And there's a certain joy that comes into your stuff if you didn't mean it, if you didn't try to make it happen and it happens of its own accord. There's a certain magic about that. So much of what we did came from a deep sense of wonder rather than study. We didn't really study music at all.

The wires noted how all four Beatles attended Bob Dylan’s Royal Festival Hall appearance, captured by D. A. Pennebaker’s Don’t Look Back documentary. Dylan’s recent Bringing It All Back Home featured a side of electric rock, and this would be his last acoustic-only tour. Convulsed over Dylan’s identity, his British audience parsed every lyric, mistrusting his flirtation with rock ’n’ roll more for its flight from literary pretense than inexplicable lack of explicit social protest. The Beatles’ attendance conferred royal approval of Dylan’s vexing persona, whichever guise it took. With the publication of Lennon’s second book, A Spaniard in the Works, the Dylan rivalry intensified. Spaniard was both hastier than its predecessor and more ambitious, with more wordplay by the pound.

Headphones opened up a world of sonic colors, a palette of nuances and details that went far beyond the chords and melody, the lyrics, or a particular singer’s voice. The swampy Deep South ambience of “Green River” by Creedence, or the pastoral, open-space beauty of the Beatles’ “Mother Nature’s Son”; the oboes in Beethoven’s Sixth (conducted by Karajan), faint and drenched in the atmosphere of a large wood-and-stone church; the sound was an enveloping experience.

For Dylan, this electric assault threatened to suck the air out of everything else, only there was too much radio oxygen to suck. “Like a Rolling Stone” was the giant, all-consuming anthem of the new “generation gap” disguised as a dandy’s riddle, a dealer’s come-on. As a two-sided single, it dwarfed all comers, disarmed and rejuvenated listeners at each hearing, and created vast new imaginative spaces for groups to explore both sonically and conceptually. It came out just after Dylan’s final acoustic tour of Britain, where his lyrical profusion made him a bard, whose tabloid accolade took the form of political epithet: “anarchist.” As caught on film by D. A. Pennebaker’s documentary Don’t Look Back, the young folkie had already graduated to rock star in everything but instrumentation. “Satisfaction” held Dylan back at number two during its four-week July hold on Billboard’s summit, giving way to Herman’s Hermits’ “I’m Henry the Eighth, I Am” and Sonny and Cher’s “I Got You Babe” come August, novelty capstones to Dylan’s unending riddle. (In Britain, Dylan stalled at number four.) The ratio of classics to typical pop schlock, like Freddie and the Dreamers’ “I’m Telling You Now” or Tom Jones’s “It’s Not Unusual,” suddenly got inverted. For cosmic perspective, yesterday’s fireball, Elvis Presley, sang “Do the Clam.” Most critics have noted the Dylan influence on Lennon’s narratives. Less space gets devoted to Lennon’s effect on Dylan, which was overt: think of how Dylan rewires Chuck Berry (“Subterranean Homesick Blues”) or revels in inanity (“Rainy Day Women #12 & 35”). Even more telling, Lennon’s keening vocal harmonies in “Nowhere Man,” “And Your Bird Can Sing,” and “Dr. Robert” owed as much to the Byrds and the Beach Boys, high-production turf Dylan simply abjured. Lennon also had more stylistic stretch, both in his Beatle context and within his own sensibility, as in the pagan balalaikas in “Girl” or the deliberate amplifier feedback tripping “I Feel Fine.” Where Dylan skewed R&B to suit his psychological bent, Lennon pursued radical feats of integration wearing a hipster’s arty façade, the moptop teaching the quiet con. Building up toward Rubber Soul throughout 1965, Beatle gravity exerted subtle yet inexorable force in all directions.

In late 1968, Manson seized upon a new text for his prophecies: a musical training manual designed to help him create an army out of his cult—the Beatles’ 1968 album known as “the White Album.” Manson said that the Beatles had channeled his own teachings and used them to create the White Album, which he saw as a vehicle for sharing those teachings with the world. Whether Manson truly believed this fanciful idea is difficult to discern, but his starving, acid-frazzled followers believed it wholeheartedly. According to Manson, the White Album expressed the Beatles’ need for a spiritual savior and contained coded messages explicitly directed at him. Manson was, he believed, the savior the Beatles were looking for. Manson also used the coincidence of the Beatle’s song “Sexy Sadie,” his nickname for follower Susan Atkins, to prove his point and focused on the lyrics of “Piggies,” a song about class struggle, assuring his followers that they were the piggies the Beatles were writing about.

Following the Beatles, who incidentally were put together by the Tavistock Institute, came other "Made in England" rock groups, who, like the Beatles, had Theo Adorno write their cult lyrics and compose all the "music." I hate to use these beautiful words in the context of "Beatlemania"; it reminds me of how wrongly the word "lover" is used when referring to the filthy interaction between two homosexuals writhing in pigswill. To call "rock" music, is an insult, likewise the language used in "rock lyrics.

I knew whatever they sang, it would sound like a translation because of their accents, so I wanted to keep it a bit formal. After several goes, I eventually came up with the lines, ‘I’m in serious shit, I feel totally lost / If I’m asking for help, it’s only because / Being with you has opened my eyes, could I ever believe such a perfect surprise? / I keep asking myself wondering how / I keep closing my eyes but I can’t block you out / Want to find a place where it’s just you and me / Nobody else so we can be free’. And that was it. I had the beginnings of the lyric, after which, and much to my relief, the rest of the song came. For some reason the Beatles’ song ‘Things We Said Today’ popped into my head. I changed it to ‘All the Things She Said’ and I had the chorus.

Thanks so much, George Harrison, for the lyrics penned smoothly and interpreted by the help of music dragomen; for songs sung with the primal inhalation of rhapsody; for the oomph of demonstrable talents; for the mild, wind-tossed guitar riffs; and for The Beatles, whose melodies and Rock ‘n’ Roll verge on the brims of sustainable solace.

Music production with George Martin, in alliance with recommendable lyrics, flattened out creases and ran smoothly through the spines of eclectic vibes. He helped to give the Beatles a voice.

Those raised on more traditional standards will listen to late-period Beatle songs and quite legitimately ask ‘but what do they mean?’ To reply that they mean something more general than traditional lyrics, that they were conceived as records not songs, may or may not explain much.

If we were to ask average listeners what The Beatles’ lyrics mean, they would likely say very little. If, on the other hand, we asked the same listeners what The Beatles mean to them, we would get a very different response.

Rather than tell a story in traditional Tin Pan Alley style, Lennon and McCartney wrote their lyrics to create a mood or a tone, so as not to get in the way of the effect created by the music and the sound.

In his own words Adorno said his music was Stalinist or Fascist and he used “big concepts to see if they sound right and fit the data.” In these words can be found the key to why he was engaged by Tavistock to write music based on the 12-atonal system of music that “sounded right” and he then “fit the data” namely, he wrote the lyrics to match, so that what emerged was an 18 album set he wrote for the Beatles. Underlying the whole Beatle music concept was Adorno’s long held belief that capitalism was evil, because it “fed the people with products of a culture industry to keep them passively satisfied and politically apathetic.” His “Beatle 12-atonal music” would throw a wrench into the works of the world’s biggest capitalist state, the United States of America.

Much of this flows from the literary cast of mind of such critics, many of whom originate in, or identify with, the campus/coffee-house folk-blues ethos which, mutated by electricity in 1965, continues to ensoul the US rock idiom. These writers expect lyrics to make a certain sense and, if not to carry significance or responsibility, then at least to have the decency to be authentically rooted in their appropriate sub-cultural contexts. The

I've only ever been loved like a Top 40 song- the latest hit, the hot new thing. Something fleeting, bubbly and fun; nothing serious. But just once, I'd like to be loved like a poignant, timeless ballad. With a melody that moves you and lyrics that burrow deep in your heart. Like Leonard Cohen's "Suzanne" or "Something" by the Beatles or "Speak Now" by Taylor Swift. But that never seems to happen.

So you’re saying money can’t buy you love?” “Yep. I’m wise enough to take Beatles lyrics as gospel now. God help us if I ever find myself on a submarine.

the Zombeatles have made a name for themselves over the past several years by performing garage-rock parodies of classic Beatles tunes with new zombiefied lyrics.

The orchestral session came off almost, but not entirely, without a hitch. Through several takes, the principal cellist seemed to be having difficulty phrasing the short cello obbligato in ‘Live and Let Die.’ The part was not that difficult, and Paul, noticing that it was 4:50 P.M., just ten minutes before overtime rates would kick in, walked down the long staircase from the Studio Two control room and took Newman aside. “He wants to go into overtime, doesn’t he?” Paul asked. “Do you mind if I take over?”27 Newman handed Paul the baton, and Paul told the cellist, “Right, I’ll tell you what we’ll do. I’ll sing it, and you play it.” He then sang the cello line, using the names of the chords as lyrics, leaving the player no recourse but to play the line as Paul sang it before doing a final take. “It was so fucking brilliant,” Litchfield marveled, “that when he finished, the entire orchestra stood up and gave [Paul] a standing ovation. The cellist got outgunned. It was wonderful; it was a private piece of musicianship the like of which I’d never seen before, and certainly never since.”28

I think it’s easier for me to do melodies and ballads,” Paul later reflected. “I think they come easier to me. I think they’re actually easier songs to write than rockers. . . . Rock ’n’ roll is deceptively hard to write. A lot of people will just think, ‘Oh, it’s three chords and all you’ve gotta have is a lot of soft lyrics and you’ve got a rock song.’ And sometimes that does work.28 Every time I attempt a heavy rock thing, I know it must be perfect. Otherwise I have people saying, ‘That’s a nice soft rock thing you’ve just done, Paul.’ That’s no compliment, believe me.

Lyrically, the directness and poetic imagery in ‘Warm and Beautiful’ make it a close second to ‘Maybe I’m Amazed’ among Paul’s songs inspired by Linda. And it was almost enough to make him reconsider his insecurity about writing lyrics. “I’ve never thought I had a relationship with words that’s very strong. I feel as though it’s more music. But that’s my particular hang up. I think what I’m saying is, there are some people who string words together that I admire to the degree that I don’t think I’m that good. I mean, that’s my natural response—‘No, I’m not very good with words.’ But when I think about it I know I have some moments when suddenly a little flash has come to me and I’ve thought, ‘Okay, that’s good, those are good words.’”48 In Paul’s own estimation, ‘Warm and Beautiful’ was one of those sudden flashes. “That one really does get to me,” he later admitted. “It captures some of my innermost feelings for her.

In America, ‘Getting Closer’ did slightly better. The anonymous reviewer for Billboard found the song to be “an uplifting rocker” and praised McCartney’s vocals, as well as lyrics and instrumental hooks that were “subtle but effective.”44 The single entered the Billboard Hot 100 at No. 64 on June 16 and remained ten weeks. It took until July 28 to hit its peak, No. 20, a spot it held for a fortnight. At Lympne Castle, meanwhile, Wings were filling reels of tape with jamming, and Paul was bringing in new material. One of his new tunes was ‘Ebony and Ivory,’ a song he had started after a row with Linda at High Park in the summer of 1978, but that looked at relationships more globally, using the keyboard as a metaphor for racial harmony: “Ebony and ivory live together in perfect harmony, side by side on my piano, keyboard, oh Lord, why don’t we?

Equally, I’m still ready to pull out my joker: I’d rather be in an instrumental band than take over the microphone. Unfortunately that idea is, again, quickly shot down. Tony and Mike have long had aspirations to be songwriters—that is, songs with lyrics, lyrics that need to be sung. More than that: they want to write hit songs, singles that will reach the pop charts. They’ve always wanted that; always wanted to write like The Kinks and The Beatles. You can’t do that if your band doesn’t have a singer, or lyrics, or choruses.