The Unfortunate Gwatkin by Half Man Half Biscuit, tabs and chords at PlayUkuleleNET

The Unfortunate Gwatkin

Biography:

Half Man Half Biscuit, often abbreviated to "HMHB", are an indie rock band from Birkenhead, England, active sporadically since the 1984, known for its satirical, sardonic, and sometimes surreal songs. The group consists of Nigel Blackwell (lead vocals, guitar), Neil Crossley (bass), Ken Hancock (lead guitar), and Carl Henry (drums). Throughout their career they have been signed to Probe Plus records.

The band's first single, The Trumpton Riots, topped the British Independent Chart in 1986

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Four years of hard work!

This month of May we celebrated four years on the air. We continue working on the dissemination of this wonderful instrument, thank you for participating in our story!

(intro) G Em C D (x4)

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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
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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?
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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.
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Cresta! What the fuck were we drinking?
G
Cresta!