I'm sorry, but is there anyone with LESS charisma than George Harrison??
Crappy charisma nonetheless, and not-so-great song nonetheless... I still, while listening, kept randomly, stupidly thinking of F. Scott Fitzgerald singing this to Zelda back in the '20s. She wouldn't marry him until he had money, and he knew it, and he wrote 'til he had a novel fit for publishing, then he went and got her. I'm astounded by and admiring of his effort and ultimate success. Sure, look where it ultimately got 'em, but, hey, they didn't know that when they were kiddos.
And even in their last years, when they'd been living separately and could barely stand to look at each other during their brief meetings: “Liquor on my breath is sweet to her. I cherish her most extravagant hallucinations.” That's hard, real love, folks.