Paul McCartney was driving his car to Weybridge to see John Lennon’s son, Julian, when a melody started thumping against his steering wheel. This wasn't unusual. For Macca, melodies are like oxygen—they’re just there. But the words were tricky. He was thinking about Julian, whose parents were going through a nasty divorce, and he started mumbling to himself, "Hey Jules, don't make it bad." It was a pep talk in song form. By the time he got to John’s house, "Jules" had become "Jude" because it sounded a bit more country-and-western, a bit more universal.
But there is a specific moment in the history of that song where a Paul McCartney famous lyric saved the track from being lesser than it became. If Paul had followed his own instincts and deleted a "placeholder" line, "Hey Jude" might have lost its soul.
Honestly, it’s one of those stories that makes you realize how thin the line is between a masterpiece and a "pretty good" tune. Most people think the Beatles were these flawless gods who just breathed out hits, but they were often insecure about their own writing. Paul, especially, could be his own harshest critic. He had this one line in "Hey Jude" that he absolutely hated. He thought it was stupid. He thought it was a "filler." And he was ready to bin it until John Lennon stepped in and changed history with a single comment.
The "Movement You Need" Mystery
So, they’re at Abbey Road. Or maybe they’re just sitting with acoustic guitars at John’s place—accounts vary slightly depending on which biography you read, but the core truth remains. Paul plays the song for John and Yoko. He gets to the fourth verse. He sings the line: "The movement you need is on your shoulder."
Paul stops.
He looks at John and says, "I'll fix that bit. It’s a bit of a block. I’ll change it." He thought it sounded like a bit of nonsense he’d just thrown in to keep the rhythm going until he could think of something "poetic."
John looks at him—and this is the classic Lennon-McCartney dynamic in a nutshell—and says, "You won't, you know. That’s the best line in the song."
Paul is confused. He thinks it doesn't make sense. But John insists. He tells Paul that it’s a "bloody great" line and that it’s actually quite profound. John saw something in the abstraction that Paul, the literalist craftsman, couldn't see. Because that Paul McCartney famous lyric saved the song from becoming too literal, it added a layer of mysticism. It’s about self-reliance. It’s about the idea that the power to change your life isn't coming from some external force; it’s right there, perched on you, waiting for you to use it.
If Paul had changed it to something more "logical," the song would have lost that grit.
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Why Placeholder Lyrics Actually Matter
We see this all the time in music history. "Scrambled Eggs" became "Yesterday." "In My Life" started as a literal bus route through Liverpool before John realized he needed to make it about people, not places.
But with "Hey Jude," the placeholder became the permanent fixture. This happens because sometimes the subconscious mind is a better songwriter than the conscious mind. When Paul wrote "the movement you need is on your shoulder," he wasn't trying to be clever. He was just reaching for a feeling.
Think about the physical sensation of that lyric.
It feels heavy. It feels like a burden, but also like wings. When you’re going through a hard time—which is what the song is about—you feel a weight on your shoulders. John recognized that by keeping the line, they were acknowledging the weight while also giving the listener the "movement" to get past it. It’s genius. And it only stayed in the song because John Lennon had the guts to tell his best friend he was wrong.
The Long Road to Seven Minutes
"Hey Jude" wasn't just saved by a lyric; it was saved by its own audacity. In 1968, songs weren't seven minutes long. Not pop songs. Not the stuff played on AM radio.
George Martin, their legendary producer, told them it was too long. He basically said, "You can't have a four-minute 'na-na-na' outro. The DJs won't play it."
And John, ever the rebel, snapped back, "They will if it's us."
He was right.
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But the reason the "na-na-na" section works is because the first half of the song is so grounded and emotionally honest. That Paul McCartney famous lyric saved the emotional stakes of the first three minutes so that the final four minutes felt like a release rather than a chore. If the lyrics had been generic or "perfectly polished," we wouldn't have cared enough to stick around for the big finish.
The Julian Connection
We can't talk about this lyric without talking about Julian Lennon. He didn't even know the song was about him for years. Imagine that. You’re a kid, your dad has left your mom for another woman, and your dad’s friend writes the most famous song in the world for you, but tells everyone it's just a general song about "making it better."
Julian eventually found out, of course. He later said he felt closer to Paul than he did to his own father during those years.
That emotional weight—that "movement on your shoulder"—was Julian’s reality. He was a small boy carrying the weight of a dissolving family. Paul’s lyric, even if he thought it was "filler," captured the exact frequency of a child trying to find his footing in a world that was shifting beneath him.
Misconceptions About the Recording
There’s a lot of lore about the "Hey Jude" sessions at Trident Studios. People often get confused about who played what.
- Ringo was actually on a toilet break when they started the take that became the final record. He had to sneak back onto his drum kit mid-song, which is why the drums don't come in until quite late.
- George Harrison and Paul had a massive argument because George wanted to "answer" every line of the vocal with a guitar riff. Paul said no. George was miffed.
- There is a "hidden" swear word. About halfway through, you can hear someone (likely Paul or John) realize they’ve hit a wrong note or dropped a headphone and say, "F***ing hell!" It’s buried in the mix, but once you hear it, you can’t unhear it.
Even with the swearing and the arguments and the bathroom breaks, the song feels like a religious experience. And it's because it feels human. It’s not a sterile studio product. It’s a song that was almost "fixed" into mediocrity but was saved by the raw, weird, nonsensical brilliance of a lyric Paul didn't even like.
How to Apply the "McCartney Method" to Your Own Work
Whether you're writing a book, a song, or even a business proposal, there's a lesson here. We often try to "clean up" our best ideas because they feel a bit messy or weird. We want things to make sense.
But "making sense" is the enemy of "making a connection."
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- Trust your first instinct. Often, the first thing you write is the truest, even if it’s grammatically weird or logically thin.
- Get an outside perspective. Paul needed John to tell him the "shoulder" line was good. You need a "John" in your life who can see the value in your "placeholders."
- Don't fear length. If the content is good, people will stay for the "na-na-na" outro.
- Embrace the "mistakes." The swear word in "Hey Jude" didn't ruin the song; it became part of its legend.
The Legacy of the Saved Lyric
Today, Paul McCartney still performs "Hey Jude" at every single concert. It is his closing anthem. And every single time he gets to that fourth verse, he sings that line. He sings it with a certain kind of reverence now. He’s admitted in interviews that he thinks of John every time he hits those words.
"The movement you need is on your shoulder."
It’s a reminder that we are all carrying something, but we also have the agency to move. It’s a bit of cosmic advice from 1968 that still rings true in 2026.
If you want to truly appreciate the song, go back and listen to the Anthology versions or the Esher Demos. You can hear the song in its skeletal form. You can hear Paul testing the waters. But the version we know, the one that topped the charts for nine weeks and became the anthem of a generation, is the one where Paul stopped himself from being too "clever" and just let the weirdness stay.
The next time you’re doubting yourself or thinking about deleting a piece of your own work because it feels "unfinished," remember Paul. Remember that your "filler" might actually be your masterpiece.
To truly understand the impact of this songwriting philosophy, look at your own creative process. Identify one "placeholder" you’ve been planning to replace. Instead of deleting it, try to see it through someone else’s eyes. Ask yourself if it captures a feeling that a "perfect" line couldn't. Sometimes, the movement you need is already right there.
Actionable Next Steps:
- Listen to the "naked" version: Check out the Let It Be... Naked or Anthology 3 sessions to hear how the Beatles stripped away production to focus on lyricism.
- Audit your "Jude" lines: In your own writing, highlight sentences you feel are "too simple" or "placeholder." Read them aloud. If they carry an emotional rhythm, keep them.
- Study the Lennon-McCartney "Editor" Dynamic: Read Ian MacDonald’s Revolution in the Head for a deep, track-by-track breakdown of how the duo edited each other's worst tendencies.