Half Man Half Biscuit – Jacks Been To The National (Guitar)

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Here’s Jack, just got back, standing at the bar, brandishing his race badge

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There’s no need, we know where you’ve been, we’ve seen your Matalan suit

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Where did your socks go, did your socks go? To the same place as your horse?

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Fifty pound at twenty to one, later found at ten past four

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I've seen some chumps in my time, but you're off the scale

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Given an inch of encouragement, you'll take a yard of ale

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And now he's standing on the table

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He's under starters orders

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Jack's been to the National, Jack's been to the National, 

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Jack's been to the National, and he's fallen at the first

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Here's Jack, back on track, practicing his golf swing in the car park

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F1 chat down the fairway, I dare say all is well in his world

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Got property in Mobberley, probably ridiculous gate

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It's all about salary and playing to the gallery, he's never heard of George Lee Mallory

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On his phone at the lights, on his own most nights

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He's trying to win his wife back, she's never coming back Jack, she took her stuff back, take your shot Jack

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Bile, spite, hatred and vitriol, that's all she's got left for you

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And the Himalayan salt lamp and Navajo head dress, we don't care about how much you can bench press

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Out of bounds on the left

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       Its a right old trail of tears

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And here's to your Native American name "Great Big Whopper with Shit For Brains"

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Here's to your Native American name "Great Big Whopper with Shit For Brains"

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Here's to your Native American name "Great Big Whopper with Shit For Brains"

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Here's to your Native American name "Great Big Whopper with Shit For Brains"

G                  D
Jack's been to the National,

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Jack's been to the National