Tour Jacket With Detachable Sleeves chords by Half Man Half Biscuit

Chords with lyrics

Verse 1:
(Talking)

FF
 Her mother had never really wanted us to go in the first place,
FF
But Helen convinced her that she was worrying needlessly.
FF
After all, it’s not as if it was an actual nightclub we were going to,
FF
Where the debauched minions of Baal and other basement idols would gyrate obscenely around us,
FF
Apeing our innocence and howling their approval at our terrifying predicament.
FF
On the contrary, we were going to the Stipe Records Showcase at the local polytechnic,
FF
And we were going to have ourselves a beautiful evening.

Verse 2:
(Talking)

FF
Everything was in order, we timed the last bus, and it
FF
Coincided superbly with the last band finishing their set,
FF
Allowing for an estimated three-song encore.
FF
Although I turned Helen on to the alternative music scene some two years back,
FF
She still insisted on wearing a black satin tour jacket with detachable sleeves
FF
That she’d bought at a Dogs d’Amour concert, which she went to with her friend Jackie,
FF
Who was unstable. I would rib her mercilessly about it.
FF
But one night, after I’d possibly ridden my luck a little too far, she stamped down her foot,
FF
Which I thought was brilliant, because it reminded me of Talulah Gosh,
FF
And said: “Listen, if I’m going to be an indie kid, then I’ll be independent in my choice of clothes,
FF
Thank you very much.” Wow, what a girl!


Verse 3:
(Talking)

C majorC
 And so it was that we set off for the concert, both smelling of that
C majorC
Short-lived yet much-maligned unisex perfume, Travis, by Cartel (“for those who like their trade rough”).
C majorC
By the time we arrived, the hall was already quite full,
C majorC
So I hurried to the bar while Helen went off to find a good vantage point.
C majorC
Eight-fifteen, and with she drinking cider, and me there beside her,
C majorC
The first band came on. “Oh no”, I shrieked, “real horrorshow”.
C majorC
I was going through my Clockwork Orange phase. Surely not?
C majorC
It seemed that every band that was performing were one of those tribute bands,
C majorC
And first up was ELP. H-ELP more like. “Welcome back my friends, to the show that never ends.
C majorC
It goes on for at least two hours because we’ve got a brand new Moog.”

Verse 4:
(Talking)

C majorC
I’ve died and gone to hell, and then I’ve fallen through a trapdoor and landed on the planet Progrock.
C majorC
And then the applauding Ents Sec introduces the next act.
C majorC
Jeez! (That’s journalese) …PFM! They didn’t really play many songs,
C majorC
Just got unnecessarily passionate about the Azzurri and how Rossi was framed,
C majorC
and how his subsequent hat-trick against the Brazilians was a big F-off to the authorities.
C majorC
“Fair enough”, I thought, “but perhaps no need for the language.”
C majorC
After the Identical Cocteau Twins, came the final act,
C majorC
I Can’t Believe It’s Not Focus. Following a commendable stab at Sylvia,
C majorC
Helen shouted to the guitarist: “Are you knackered, man?” To which he replied: “No, I’m Jan Akkerman”.


Verse 5:
(Talking)

FF
 And so the stark lights of the hall came on, and we filtered out into the night,
FF
Saying our goodbyes to the gang, who in turn went their separate ways,
FF
To waiting dads in brown Audis, or some to the college minibus, driven by Bob,
FF
Who didn’t go our way. I then suddenly realised that because the Dutch clones only had two songs,
FF
The concert had finished a little early, and so we could get the 71,
FF
Which was a lot quicker and didn’t skirt the council estate.
FF
It also gave us time to get some chips.


Verse 6:
(Talking)

C majorC
 The bus approached, and I noticed that it was a double-decker.
C majorC
As we boarded, I immediately felt a little uneasy, as the driver didn’t seem to know the
C majorC
Required fare for our intended destination.
C majorC
As we made our way to the upper deck front seat, I felt the vehicle swing round to the left,
C majorC
As if to go along Bridge Street. “He really doesn’t know the route”, I thought, with increasing alarm.
C majorC
“Better go downstairs and help him out.
C majorC
Wait a minute. Bridge Street? The overhead railway Bridge Street?
C majorC
Oh my God – HELLENNNNNNNNNN…”


Verse 7:
(Talking)

FF
 Ten years on, and here I am on the bus we should have got.
FF
And yes, you guessed it, I’m the driver. Therapy, they call it.
C majorC
 And every year, on the anniversary of that night, she floats on board,
C majorC
Takes the seat behind me. She doesn’t pay of course,
C majorC
But she is keen to make sure we don’t go down Bridge Street.
C majorC
She finally alights at the cemetery, and every year I follow until I reach her grave,
C majorC
Where as always, there’s no sign of Helen, but draped over the headstone…


Chorus:

FF        Bb majorBb
 Is a black tour jacket
FF         Bb majorBb
 Satin black tour jacket
FF          Bb majorBb
 Helen’s black tour jacket
C majorC        FF
 With detachable sleeves
C majorC        FF
 With detachable sleeves


Outro:

         C majorC            FF
(Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves
         C majorC            FF
(Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves
         C majorC            FF
(Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves
         C majorC            FF
(Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves
         C majorC            FF
(Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves
         C majorC            FF
(Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves
         C majorC            FF
(Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves
         C majorC            FF
(Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves
         C majorC    FF