Paul's lyrics from Here Today reminds me of Shakespeare's Sonnet 18 in a way that it immortalizes a loved one and the constancy of affection:
"And if I say I really loved you and was glad you came along When you were here today For you were in my song"
Sonnet 18 in modern English: "And you will never die, as you will live on in my enduring poetry. As long as there are people still alive to read poems this sonnet will live, and you will live in it."
YES! I love the way Here Today uses the immortalising theme - and does it in such an unusual way.
In sonnets, it’s often boastful: as Shakespeare’s sonnet 55 says, “Not marble nor the gilded monuments Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme”. My work is so awesome it will live forever, and you’ll live forever too because you’re in it.
Here Today is so much more fragile: he isn’t promising eternity. He’s saying John is here now, present as Paul is singing about him.
And that fragility suits the song, which has so much uncertainty in it:
“And if I say,
I really knew you well what would your answer be…
Well, knowing you
You’d probably laugh and say that we were worlds apart”
He can’t be sure if John saw their relationship the way he does, if he’d agree now in the present, whether they understood each other.
But then he shifts focus:
“But as for me
I still remember how it was before
And I am holding back the tears no more
I love you”
He’s holding on to what he can be sure of. Not eternity, not whatever he thinks John might have thought or felt: just that Paul loves him, and loving him is a way to keep him here today, in this moment. (I love the play of tenses: you were in my song, and I love you now.)
In a 1980 interview, John said, “Paul is quite a capable lyricist who doesn’t think he’s a capable lyricist, therefore he doesn’t go for it.” In Here Today, I think he really does go for it. These lyrics are very carefully crafted.
But he also pushes himself to an unusual degree of emotional bareness, both about the doubt and about the love. And that feels like another way of paying tribute, remembering John in the kind of art he valued (deft, personal, autobiographical words).
It’s devoted, and touchingly modest. He won’t overpromise, offer immortality, or claim anything he can’t be sure of. He just says: You were in my song. I love you.








