This is one of my absolute favourite songs of all time. It's literally impossible to be depressed while listening to Silly Love Songs. Paul McCartney takes a lot of crap for being trite and whimsical, but damnit, I love him triteness, whimsy and all. This critical obsession with marginalizing everything he does as somehow not artistic is a struggle that I definitely identify with, and that's kind of what this song is about. Because literally, "what's wrong with that?" Not much if you ask me.