Why Sir Paul McCartney still finds it 'difficult' to think about John Lennon's death

18th July 1968: Beatle John Lennon (1940 - 1980) and his Japanese girlfriend Yoko Ono with Beatle Paul McCartney, right, at the premiere of the new Beatles film 'Yellow Submarine'. Photo / Getty

Sir Paul McCartney still finds it "difficult" to think about John Lennon's death.

The 78-year-old musician admitted he gets very "emotional" when his mind returns to the day his Beatles bandmate was shot dead in 1980 and he doesn't think he'll ever "get over" his friend being the victim of such a "senseless" act.

He said: "It's difficult for me to think about. I rerun the scenario in my head. Very emotional. So much so that I can't really think about it. It kind of implodes. What can you think about that besides anger, sorrow?

"Like any bereavement, the only way out is to remember how good it was with John. Because I can't get over the senseless act. I can't think about it. I'm sure it's some form of denial. But denial is the only way that I can deal with it. Having said that, of course I do think about it, and it's horrible.

"You do things to help yourself out of it. I did an interview with Sean his son. That was nice — to talk about how cool John was and fill in little gaps in his knowledge. So it's little things that I am able to do, but I know that none of them can get over the hill and make it OK."

And Paul revealed he regularly acknowledges his friend whenever he passes the funeral home that his body was taken to after his death.

He added to the New York Times magazine: "But you know, after he was killed, he was taken to Frank Campbell's funeral parlour in New York. I'm often passing that. I never pass it without saying, 'All right, John. Hi, John.' "

Another of the 'Live and Let Die' hitmaker's bandmates, George Harrison, passed away in 2001 after lung cancer spread to his brain and Paul touchingly recalled their final moments together.

Asked if he remembered the last thing George had said to him, he said: "We said silly things. We were in New York before he went to Los Angeles to die, and they were silly but important to me. And, I think, important to him.

"We were sitting there, and I was holding his hand, and it occurred to me — I've never told this — I don't want to hold George's hand. You don't hold your mate's hands. I mean, we didn't anyway.

"And I remember he was getting a bit annoyed at having to travel all the time — chasing a cure. He'd gone to Geneva to see what they could do. Then he came to a special clinic in New York to see what they could do. Then the thought was to go to L.A. and see what they could do. He was sort of getting a bit, 'Can't we just stay in one place?' And I said, 'Yes, Speke Hall. Let's go to Speke Hall.'

"That was one of the last things we said to each other, knowing that he would be the only person in the room who would know what Speke Hall [a public garden and estate in Liverpool] was.

"Anyway, the nice thing for me when I was holding George's hands, he looked at me, and there was a smile."