Leather Jacket By Arkells - Lyrics Chords

[F#] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ I [A#m] heard her story [B] before I showed up.
[A#] They tell them to me, [B] and folks follow us up.
[A#] And they're all connected [B] like a pair of handcuffs.
[A#] No one seemed affected, [B] but everyone_
But there was softness, [F#] a kind of understanding.
[B]
It was true, I am deficient.
[C#] I was shaking Lenny's, [B] and no one ever [F#] knew
[D#m] what could be demanding.
[B]
Maybe it was the car, [C#] the car that she was handing.
[B] _ You [F#] called me up from a pay [C#] phone.
I [F#] said, hang tight, I can drive you home.
I pulled on up, and with a southern [C#m] accent,
I offered [D#m] you my [F#] dad's leather jacket.
_ _ _ I _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
met her at a party.
[Bm] She comes straight from work. _
[F#] Complained that the regular [B] for Harlem was a jerk.
[F#] She always looked tired.
[Bm] She dazzled the drunk.
[F#] She even pulled off [B] the stupid haircut.
She said, I don't need a sponsor [F#] or the best lover.
[B]
She ran to see me [C#] at some fixer-upper.
[B] The last [F#] few years, man, [D#m] I've been running for cover.
[B] Trying to sleep so [C#] I can visit my mother.
[B] _ You [F#] called me up from a pay [C#] phone.
I [F#] said, hang tight, I can drive you home.
I pulled on up, and with a [C#] southern accent,
I [F#] offered you my dad's leather jacket.
When times were tight, in the worst years,
you never knew how to interfere.
And now you're back, and just don't pack it.
The bruise don't take it.
You keep it [G#m] _ _ slackin'. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [C#] _ _ [F#] In [G#m] September, when it goes [F#] off, like [C#] some goddamn _ alarm [B] clock.
And [G#m] it hits her like a third shot. _
[C#] Conversations, she just stares [G#m] off.
There's no longer a voice calling when [C#] she goes off.
Saying, I'm [D#m] not waiting [B] for you.
_ _ [F#] _ _ _ _
[C#] _ _ _ _ [D#m] _ _ [C#] _ _
[B] _ You called [F#] me up from a pay [C#] phone.
I said, [D#m] hang tight, [C#] I can drive [B] you home.
I pulled [F#] on up, and with a [C#] southern accent,
I offered [D#m] you my dad's leather [B] jacket.
When times [F#] were tight, in the worst years,
you never knew how to _ interfere.
And now you're back, and just don't pack it.
The bruise don't take it.
You keep [B] it slackin'.
You called [F#] me up from a pay [D#m] phone.
_ _ [F#] _ _ _ _
[B] _ You called [F#] me up from a pay phone. _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[B] _ You called [F#] me up from a pay [D#m] phone.
_ _ _ [F#] _ _ _ _
[B] _ You called [F#] me up from a pay phone.
I said, [D#m] put a cute little [F#] pay phone. _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[D#m] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _