I'm Gonna Sit Right Down And Write Myself A Letter
Paul McCartney Lyrics


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I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter
And make believe it came from you

I'm gonna write words oh so sweet
They're gonna knock me off my feet
A lotta kisses on the bottom
I'll be glad I've got 'em
I'm gonna smile and say
I hope you're feeling better
And close with love the way you do
I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter
And I'm make believe it came from you

I'm gonna smile and say
I hope you're feeling better
And close with love the way you do
I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter




And I'm make believe, ah I'm gonna make believe
I'm gonna make believe it came from you

Overall Meaning

The lyrics to Paul McCartney's song "I'm Gonna Sit Right Down And Write Myself A Letter" are a charming reflection on the power of the written word to evoke emotion and connection. The singer speaks of his intention to pen a letter to himself, but to make it seem like it came from a loved one. The imagined letter would be overflowing with sweet words and kisses that would leave the singer swooning. He resolves to send love and good wishes to the recipient, hoping that they will feel better after receiving the missive.


The song is a nostalgic nod to a bygone era where letter-writing was a common form of communication. The veneration for the written word is clear in the singer's excitement to receive a letter, even an imaginary one. The use of language is also significant, as McCartney uses descriptive and imaginative phrases such as "kisses on the bottom" to convey the depth of feeling that the letter would inspire. The song is a testament to the enduring allure of the written word, its power to connect people across distances and time, and to evoke deep emotions that touch the heart.


Line by Line Meaning

I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter
I plan to sit down and compose a letter to myself.


And make believe it came from you
While writing this letter, I will pretend that it is from you.


I'm gonna write words oh so sweet
The words I put down in this letter will be very pleasant and nice.


They're gonna knock me off my feet
These words will have a strong emotional impact on me.


A lotta kisses on the bottom
I will end the letter with many kisses.


I'll be glad I've got 'em
I will feel happy and satisfied with the kisses at the end of the letter.


I'm gonna smile and say
When I read this letter, I will have a positive attitude.


I hope you're feeling better
I wish that you feel well and happy.


And close with love the way you do
I will end the letter with feelings of love towards the person I am imagining.


And I'm make believe, ah I'm gonna make believe
I will pretend and imagine during the process of writing this letter.


I'm gonna make believe it came from you
I will try to create a sense that the words I write are coming from the person I am visualizing.




Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC , Peermusic Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: FRED AHLERT, JOSEPH YOUNG

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Most interesting comment from YouTube:

@Mr1drumlover

The Sounds, Smells, and Flavors of My Life

Almost every Sunday, which was my father's only day off, from 1958 to the late 1980's, would be his time to sit down stairs, in what was then called 'The Rec Room', of our brick home in suburban Cranford, NJ. He would sit on an old avocado green 1960's couch. With his flower patterned metal foldable coffee table in front of him, a fresh cup of instant Chock Full O’ Nuts coffee, a  Chesterfield’s cigarette burning in the ashtray, a 1919 The Gibson guitar in hand, and a very used "fake book" from the early 1950’s in front of him... he was a very happy man!

He would proceed to arbitrarily flip through his old fake book. If he knew the song he flipped to, he would play and sing it with incredible conviction and emotion. If he didn't happen to know the song that he flipped to, he would try and work it out as far as his patience would allow. If it was a song that he knew in his head, but not know how to play, he would work on it, with his ear leading the way, again, until his patience ran thin. In his next "Rec Room Sessions" he would work those unfinished tunes out a little bit more. At that juncture, it was back to flipping through the fake book.

My mother would be in her (most of the time) favorite place in the house, the kitchen. Indeed, Sunday mornings, the smell of bacon, eggs and pancakes, coffee, Chesterfield and Salem cigarettes, and the sounds from the Rec Room; of Jazz, Bossa Nova, and Gypsy up-tempo guitar playing, ala one of the old guitar players that had a profound influence on my father... Django Reinhardt.

There were the sounds of his singing with the deepest of emotion and conviction… and the loud voice of my father yelling up to my mother…” Shirl, make me another cup of coffee, please?!?!?. She would almost always respond with… “Another? For Christ sakes Anthony, that’s too much coffee, you’re going to get agita (heartburn, acid reflux) again!!!”... she would make it, and bring it down to him… This was simply how it was around the home I grew up in, but not how it was, I realized as I grew older, the way it was around almost all of my friends homes.

Later in the morning, when my father was tired of ‘fake booking it’ (if you will), and the caffeine and nicotine were in full swing in his central nervous system (pun intended!), he would resort to his old memorized staples of repertoire, drawing from the Great American Songbook. So, whenever my father started to sing, ‘I’m Gonna Sit Right Down And Write Myself A Letter’ by Fred Ahlert and Joe Young… My mother, who was cleaning up the mess we all made, from all the ‘love’ she just served up to us for breakfast that morning, would start singing that song at the top of her lungs along with my father. They would sing in unison, and harmonize with each other, him taking the lower harmony, and my mother taking the upper, and sometimes they would switch harmonies. My mother upstairs, and my father downstairs, singing their hearts out together!!!! As a child, that was both embarrassing, and comforting, to hear my parents interacting in this beautiful way.

My father was a gifted musician and vocalist, who was self taught. He was influenced by all the great big bands of the 40’s, and all of the great progressive musicians of the 40's, 50’s and 60’s that he and my mother, together, would go to hear, during the late 40' and early 50's. Those were their younger years, the carefree, totally in love years, before having kids stomped on the air brakes hard, on those fun, joyous, and loving music/date activities.

They would drive from Elizabeth, NJ, north on the NJ Turnpike, over the GW Bridge and on up to the Harlem theaters and clubs in NYC. If they were going to the 52nd street Jazz clubs, they would take NJ Turnpike to the Lincoln Tunnel, and if they were heading to a club in the Village, they would take Rt 9, over the Pulaski Hwy, and through the Holland Tunnel. They would make these NYC Jazz club journeys in a used, black, late 40's Chevrolet Stylemaster, 2 door Town Sedan, that my father scrimped and saved for. My father's and mother's love of music, and music being central to their lives, rubbed off on me at a very early age.

 To this very day, at age 92, everyday I lay my crazy, diverse music collection on to my father’s ears. He will sit in his green lift chair, looking out over a beautiful farm, replete with old wood barn and silo, with cows grazing, hawks hunting, wild turkey roaming, and yes, coyotes howling. With his beloved boom box by his side, that has an MP3 input and USB input, that he is totally confused about how they function. There he will sit for hours on end, until I get him up and out and moving around. He will listen to the likes of: Herbie Hancock, Chic Corea, all the blues cats, Latin cats, fusion cats, New Orleans Second Line, Professor Longhair, Alan Toussaint, rock dudes, metal bands, classic rock, bluegrass, Texas swing, Bakersfield… you name it, he has probably listened to it!!!! When he is board with spinning music himself, he turns on the cable TV and tunes into MUSIC CHOICE, and gets to read a little about each artist.

If the music that he spins is true to it’s roots, he’s diggin’ on it big time daddy’o!!!!
If the music feels contrived to him, he’ll pass on it and try something else!!!!
Keep in mind, this is a 92 year old man I am writing about!!!!

My father is a WWll veteran, who was stationed in Guam, attached to the marines. He would play that 1919 Gibson guitar to try and cheer up the troops on some small amounts of leave time. This was the only time the troops had to try and calm their shattered, shell shocked nerves, by drinking a little ill-gotten beer, smoking some local marijuana, and singing along with my father and his Gibson guitar.

His immigrant father bought him that 1919 Gibson guitar from a pawn shop in NYC around the year of 1934.  This beautiful Gibson guitar was unfortunately lost in a flood in the early 1970’s, when the Rahway River that was across the way, overflowed and flooded our Cranford home (3X!!!!).

Today, my 92 year old father is my direct next door neighbor, who I am now a full time caretaker of. I have, over the years, little by little, picked up whatever slack was needed for him to continue to function at adjusted, maximum independence. This said slack (if you will) has now become almost all consuming for me, and at times, very difficult for me to deal with. But no matter what his needs are, or will become, I will always be there for him, and have his back, to the very end of his wonderful and beautiful existence on this planet. The same way he had my back from the second I was born, to this very day.

This man, who is still incredibly vibrant, goes to many concerts and Jazz shows with me, and he absolutely loves Thai food, 92, Thai food, go figure. He has a great sense of humor, and is always making jokes about his declining physical and mental abilities. He eats more than me, and wants to go out and party more than me!!! He is simply in the business of living, not dying. In the words of the great Bob Dylan… “your either busy living, or your busy dying”.

My father is a beacon, and a beautiful example to me, and anyone who meets him, of a man truly living life, and not letting life live him!!!!

The life lessons I have learned from him are incalculable. He is truly my best friend and confidant, who unconditionally loves me for who I am. So, with what I have been fielding from what life has been throwing my way lately, I don't really know what I would have done without him as my closest friend.

My mother was also a very talented singer, actor, cook, and the proverbial ‘hostess with the mostess’. She thrived on entertaining, and making people happy with her food. She would lay out a feast of incredible food on Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas... that words simply fall short in describing!!!! God rest her soul, I miss her every day, but she will live eternally in my being!! I am a lot more like my mother than I realize, or maybe want to realize, but have found the love in it all. I embody most of her good traits, and yes, some of the not so good!!! The same holds true for me with my father’s good and bad traits, though I have learned to dial the bad traits back to minimum, to zero. I am definitely not the offspring of the milkman!!!! Wow, milkman!!!!

I was a very fortunate child growing up where I did, and the way in which I did, in the 1960’s, and 70’s. The unconventional, yet rich, on so many levels, ways in which I grew up, have shaped (in a deep way) who I am, how I love, and the things I find deep joy in, to this day!

It was all of those rich experiences from my loving, and passionate parents, that have taught me what pure love, devotion, dedication, hard work, and joy; looks, sounds, smells, and tastes like.

These are the memories I choose to hold on to... the not so good, other’s?
I choose to let go forever.
These are the very memories that are etched in my heart and soul forever, and will continue to shape who I am, for the time I have left, to REALLY live my life out, on this wonderful planet, with pure love and pure joy.

With eternal love, devotion, and appreciation for the interconnected web of life!

May it be so,

Brian James Foti



All comments from YouTube:

@sheilamccoy2108

Hi,. Sir Paul is so straight A's isn't he? He makes every one so at home away from home. A for conduct. A for effort. Always looking out for the enjoyable thing to share, the sincere way to be. His voice is such a gildedness on the words of this beautiful song. Great Grace's are keeping Sir Paul company. Don't you think so,too?

@peterfrancis9270

This has all of the elements: a famous singer, a great standard song, and an all star backing band. Who can go wrong with Joe Walsh, Diana Krall and John PIzzarelli, Abe and a beautiful string section. I cannot begin to imagine the production costs! But, it’s all worth it.

@alittlebitoflight

It's a beautiful thing, and one needn't choose, but I like this one a little more. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y4nGESQGTfY&list=PL3uvgfeywsUCU30nLLdyI_imhhOiaOwBg&index=3

@you_tubeslonelyheartsclubband

Definition of "Star-studded cast"

@cormangos

Why am I just finding this video? Love love love Paul's voice sing this song, Paul is so smooth..

@markegan2480

Paul loved the old songs

@parismetro2012

In awe of Diana's playing, wow oh wow!

@sheilamccoy2108

This recording was beautifully made.The musicians with Sir Paul were wonderful. The entire piece was splendid and should be highly noticed.

@manuelgarcia8044

Breathtaking

@franrubin8123

❤I’m gonna sit right down & write a BIG THANK YOU to Paul McCartney for his flawless, fabulous rendition of a dreamy ballad I’ve loved since I was a child! 👌🥰💌

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