Through Moonshot Eyes

Floating (feat. BEL)

Parásito

doing the most

MANUKA HONEY

On The Other Side

SUMMER FOREVER

Rewind

Burnley rain. October grey.
Billy Hamilton stares at his cold chips, steam on the café glass, thinking:
"Thursday, 1 July 1982… Madrid… sunny, sweaty, glorious." 🌞

He scored five goals for Northern Ireland his entire career — FIVE —
but two of them came in one mad afternoon against Austria.
Two goals so big, he’s basically been living inside them ever since.

This song?
It’s not just music.
It’s a jangle-pop time machine with post-punk legs,
taking you straight back to that day when Belfast roared,
Austria fell, and Billy’s socks smelled like destiny.

🎸 Expect:
• Jangle guitars looping like Billy’s goal replays 🎶
• Post-punk basslines sweating under the Madrid sun 🥁
• A chorus louder than 10,000 Belfast fans with sunburns yelling:

“NORTHERN IRELAND! NORTHERN IRELAND!”

And yes, Billy had plans:
Not an Irish pub.
A Northern Irish pub.
In Vienna. Or Graz. With Belfast stout on tap,
where every jukebox is stuck on track one: “Billy Hamilton 2 – Austria 2 (in his dreams)”. 🍺

Press play.
Feel the heat.
Taste the stout.
And join Billy whispering to an empty room:
"Austria… I’ll be back for you…”

Lyrics:

Burnley rain, October grey,
Billy’s chips are cold on the tray,
Steam on the glass, the paper’s thin,
Spain ‘82 keeps pulling him in.

Madrid heat, the crowd, the noise,
Two little goals for the Belfast boys,
Only five in green his whole career,
But these two shine, sharp and clear.

Every night, the same old frame,
A Spanish pitch, the Irish name,
Austria falling, the dream alive,
For ninety minutes — Belfast survived…

Northern Ireland! — Northern Ireland! 
Billy runs wild in the burning sun,
Northern Ireland! — Northern Ireland! 
Two goals in Madrid… and we were the lucky ones!

Five little goals in a lifetime long,
But two still sing like an old terrace song,
He sees the bar, the polished wood,
A Northern Irish pub where the pints taste good.

Not Dublin whiskey, not London gin,
Belfast stout where the dreams begin,
Maybe Vienna, maybe Graz,
Billy laughs, tips his glass.

The lights fade, but the crowd’s still loud,
A thousand faces, a sea of proud,
Billy whispers to the empty room:
“Austria, I’ll be back for you…”

Northern Ireland! — Northern Ireland! 
Billy runs wild in the burning sun,
Northern Ireland! — Northern Ireland! 
Two goals in Madrid… and we were the lucky ones!

Oh-oh-oh…
Billy boy, Billy boy,
Two goals to build a life on!

Northern Ireland

Bad is the word

Drop The Guillotine

Moving On

doing the most

LAZARUATH