Tom: F F Her mother had never really wanted us to go in the first place, F But Helen convinced her that she was worrying needlessly. F After all, it’s not as if it was an actual nightclub we were going to, F Where the debauched minions of Baal and other basement idols would gyrate obscenely around us, F Apeing our innocence and howling their approval at our terrifying predicament. F On the contrary, we were going to the Stipe Records Showcase at the local polytechnic, F And we were going to have ourselves a beautiful evening. [Verse 2] (Talking) F Everything was in order, we timed the last bus, and it F Coincided superbly with the last band finishing their set, F Allowing for an estimated three-song encore. F Although I turned Helen on to the alternative music scene some two years back, F She still insisted on wearing a black satin tour jacket with detachable sleeves F That she’d bought at a Dogs d’Amour concert, which she went to with her friend Jackie, F Who was unstable. I would rib her mercilessly about it. F But one night, after I’d possibly ridden my luck a little too far, she stamped down her foot, F Which I thought was brilliant, because it reminded me of Talulah Gosh, F And said: “Listen, if I’m going to be an indie kid, then I’ll be independent in my choice of clothes, F Thank you very much.” Wow, what a girl! [Verse 3] (Talking) C And so it was that we set off for the concert, both smelling of that C Short-lived yet much-maligned unisex perfume, Travis, by Cartel (“for those who like their trade rough”). C By the time we arrived, the hall was already quite full, C So I hurried to the bar while Helen went off to find a good vantage point. C Eight-fifteen, and with she drinking cider, and me there beside her, C The first band came on. “Oh no”, I shrieked, “real horrorshow”. C I was going through my Clockwork Orange phase. Surely not? C It seemed that every band that was performing were one of those tribute bands, C And first up was ELP. H-ELP more like. “Welcome back my friends, to the show that never ends. C It goes on for at least two hours because we’ve got a brand new Moog.” [Verse 4] (Talking) C I’ve died and gone to hell, and then I’ve fallen through a trapdoor and landed on the planet Progrock. C And then the applauding Ents Sec introduces the next act. C Jeez! (That’s journalese) …PFM! They didn’t really play many songs, C Just got unnecessarily passionate about the Azzurri and how Rossi was framed, C and how his subsequent hat-trick against the Brazilians was a big F-off to the authorities. C “Fair enough”, I thought, “but perhaps no need for the language.” C After the Identical Cocteau Twins, came the final act, C I Can’t Believe It’s Not Focus. Following a commendable stab at Sylvia, C Helen shouted to the guitarist: “Are you knackered, man?” To which he replied: “No, I’m Jan Akkerman”. [Verse 5] (Talking) F And so the stark lights of the hall came on, and we filtered out into the night, F Saying our goodbyes to the gang, who in turn went their separate ways, F To waiting dads in brown Audis, or some to the college minibus, driven by Bob, F Who didn’t go our way. I then suddenly realised that because the Dutch clones only had two songs, F The concert had finished a little early, and so we could get the 71, F Which was a lot quicker and didn’t skirt the council estate. F It also gave us time to get some chips. [Verse 6] (Talking) C The bus approached, and I noticed that it was a double-decker. C As we boarded, I immediately felt a little uneasy, as the driver didn’t seem to know the C Required fare for our intended destination. C As we made our way to the upper deck front seat, I felt the vehicle swing round to the left, C As if to go along Bridge Street. “He really doesn’t know the route”, I thought, with increasing alarm. C “Better go downstairs and help him out. C Wait a minute. Bridge Street? The overhead railway Bridge Street? C Oh my God – HELLENNNNNNNNNN…” [Verse 7] (Talking) F Ten years on, and here I am on the bus we should have got. F And yes, you guessed it, I’m the driver. Therapy, they call it. C And every year, on the anniversary of that night, she floats on board, C Takes the seat behind me. She doesn’t pay of course, C But she is keen to make sure we don’t go down Bridge Street. C She finally alights at the cemetery, and every year I follow until I reach her grave, C Where as always, there’s no sign of Helen, but draped over the headstone… [Chorus] F Bb Is a black tour jacket F Bb Satin black tour jacket F Bb Helen’s black tour jacket C F With detachable sleeves C F With detachable sleeves [Outro] C F (Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves C F (Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves C F (Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves C F (Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves C F (Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves C F (Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves C F (Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves C F (Satin black tour jacket) with detachable sleeves C F (Satin black tour jacket)