From the album 'hours' - out now on streaming and vinyl via Elastic Stage

I met her in the ruins, with a rosary of scars 
She lit a cigarette and said: 'They've auctioned off the stars' 
The choir's gone electric, the prophets all play bass 
And the devil took his time to mimic every saintly face 

So sing me a song for the century’s child 
Where the truth wears heels and the church goes wild 
Tie up your conscience in ribbons of gold 
And lie like an angel that got bought and sold 

The preacher's on the stage, tryin' to save our souls 
He’s got mercy on his side and forgiveness as a goal
My mirror shows a stranger
My words lack grace 
I say: 'Your shadow’s just your memory trying to save face'

So build me a boat with a newspaper sail 
And baptise my doubt in holy junk mail 
The righteous are restless, the faithful run thin 
But I still light candles where the sorry end begins 

And I dreamt I saw Gabriel with a teardrop tattoo 
He said: 'God's been outsourced, he's one of us too' 
The angels got to coding, the martyrs were all bots 
And Judas went viral just sharing all his thoughts 

Now I wake with the silence that follows a scream 
Where the lovers hold grudges and the cynics still dream
She left me a promise carved into a tree 
‘Don’t trust the poet who refuses to see.’ 

So pour me a drink from the well of regret 
I’ll toast every promise the world hasn’t kept 
With Cohen’s lament and Dylan’s old sneer
A lullaby, baby, for the end of the year 

Tie up your conscience in ribbons of gold 
And lie like an angel that got bought and sold 
A lullaby baby for the end of the year

A lullaby for the end of the year

Moody synths, alt-country edge, and British black humour—Blackbird Static cuts through the noise with songs for the midnight hours.