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My ego's cushioned by the drink in my hand
I'm faking my way through the bars and arcades as I
Hand you another feed line for the stories we tell of our lives

Last night's still pushing in the back of my eyes
An aching reminder of being too wholly alive
And you, staring over the edge of the cracks where the light fell through

Now the birds are whistling hymns
And the clouds are making masterpieces

Don’t be afraid to let down your hair my love
Don’t be afraid to let down your guard my love

Now the birds are whistling hymns
And the leaves are pirouetting
Now the wind is writing psalms
And the clouds are making masterpieces…right before my eyes.

Last night’s still pushing at the back of my mind
And I can’t remember the reason we write
These tunes, but it fills the room, and so I guess we’ll continue


from S​.​E​.​N​.​T. - Volume 1, released September 1, 2020




Hope and Social Leeds

In the tradition of the travelling bands, we guess we’re a bit like a Yorkshire E-Street Band...meets Arcade Fire...meets The Faces…meets Dexys Midnight Runners…meets Prefab Sprout…at a party...in an argument about who gets to have sex with David Bowie. We're not as good at describing ourselves as others are, so...

"a big sound from this impressive outfit...inspired, anthemic, great" - Q magazine
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