Half Man Half Biscuit – The Unfortunate Gwatkin (Guitar)

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Chords

(intro) G Em C D (x4)
G           Em                       C             D
I wandered around to the back of the petrochemical plant where they’d found Mr

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Gwatkin’s jacket in 1974.   Sleeves turned inside out

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With a tin of sweetcorn in each pocket. The rumours surrounding his disappearance

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Are many and varied. Though we should for the time being at least accept the version of

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Events given to us by the lamentable chap himself on his eventual return.

              C                D
In doing this however, we must also keep in our thoughts

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The findings of better minds who conclude that Gwatkin as-is no longer

G          Em             C D   G Em C D  G Em C D
Represents Gwatkin as-was.

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Piecing together an occasional vague sentence and some garbled chanting heard during the

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Small hours, it appears that our victim was making his way home from the Pessimist

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Festival in Mollington when he was set upon by a gang of miscreants, the

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Chief malefactor of whom was a particularly vicious character going by the name of

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Bridgedale. So called on account of a thermal sock with which he

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Gloved his fist whenever he became tetchy and needed to punch somethink.

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Unable to comply with the rabble’s hot tempered demands for unreasonable

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Things such as cathedral juice and vicar shit, the heavily pummelled

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Innocent was dragged into the churchyard of St. Lawrence and there left to his own

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Devices next to the grave of young Nelson Burt – whose own tragic

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Tale is of particular interest to the local historian.

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It is believed that within twenty minutes of this episode, a further attack was witnessed by

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One Slow Dempsey of Woodside Farm, who alleged that he saw the

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Aforementioned Bridgedale scuttle a full four hundred feet along the Wervin Turnpike

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To deliver a perfect Haymaker onto a stray colt.            This afternoon I

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Visited Daniel Gwatkin in the confined place which he will probably never leave.

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I was offered redbush tea and a fig roll. The pleasantry gave

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Hope for lengthy discourse but cheer was swiftly dismissed as the pitiful subject

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Proceeded to gaze out of a large window for what seemed like an age, before

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Turning around to fix me with pitch black sockets which simply said

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“Help me”.            Then came the song:

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Cresta!      What the fuck were we drinking?

G      Em  C          D            G         Em C D
Cresta!      What the fuck were we drinking?

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I write to people, they don’t  get back to me. I write a second time, they don’t reply.

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To ease the loneliness and pass the time I pace the room, inventing bands;

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Experimental trio from Borehamwood – ‘Hall, Stairs and Landing’: they’re really good.

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Scott Verplank did not get back to me. Newcombe and Roche, still no response.

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Congolesi Unsworth, Glaswegian Runes, the singer’s granddad writes all the tunes.

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Jodie Mudd, Jodie Mudd, Jodie Mudd. Jodie Mudd, Jodie Mudd, Jodie Mudd.

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Uh-oh Chongo! It’s Danger Island!

G       Em C          D            G
Cresta!      What the fuck were we drinking?

      Em          C           D
Jodie Mudd, Jodie Mudd, Jodie Mudd.

G       Em C          D            G         Em C D
Cresta!      What the fuck were we drinking?

G
Cresta!