[Intro — detuned church organ playing through a dying radio] MALE PREACHER SAMPLE: “Tonight, brothers and sisters… we are going to save your souls.” [feedback squeal] FEMALE — whispered: Who said we wanted saving? [massive guitar riff] MALE: LET 'EM BURN! VERSE 1 MALE — snarled Black-wire gospel from a busted screen, Cheap little heaven in a vending machine. Chrome-mouth preacher with a plastic grin, Selling absolution while he counts your sin. Dead frequency crawling underneath my skin, Turn the dial up—let the bad news in. Got thirteen saints hanging from the antenna line— FEMALE — whispered: And every single one looks divine. MALE: Ha! PRE-CHORUS FEMALE — smoky mezzo-soprano Come closer, darling, Don't be afraid. Every little monster Needs somebody to blame. Put your confession Against my lips— MALE — underneath: Closer… FEMALE: And watch salvation slip. CHORUS BOTH: SAINTS IN THE STATIC! HALOS BURNING AUTOMATIC! SAINTS IN THE STATIC! SWEET DISASTER—SO DRAMATIC! MALE: Crank that sermon! FEMALE: Make it scream! MALE: Feed your god— FEMALE: Into the machine! BOTH: Raise your hands while the signal goes black— We're the SAINTS IN THE STATIC AND WE AIN'T COMING BACK! [crowd] HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! VERSE 2 [mechanical bass groove] FEMALE — rhythmic mezzo Lipstick scripture on a bathroom wall, Little black angels waiting for the fall. Silver heels clicking through electric rain, Every step dancing on another chain. You promised heaven. MALE: BORING. FEMALE: You promised grace. MALE: NEXT. FEMALE: So I painted temptation All over my face. [female laugh] MALE — snarled Got a switchblade rhythm and a television soul, Drill another frequency straight through the hole. No pearly gates, no judgment day— FEMALE: Just turn that pretty little nightmare— BOTH: ALL! THE! WAY! CHORUS BOTH: SAINTS IN THE STATIC! HALOS BURNING AUTOMATIC! SAINTS IN THE STATIC! SWEET DISASTER—SO DRAMATIC! MALE: Crank that sermon! FEMALE: Make it scream! MALE: Feed your god— FEMALE: Into the machine! BOTH: Raise your hands while the signal goes black— We're the SAINTS IN THE STATIC AND WE AIN'T COMING BACK! HORROR BREAK [music cuts] [old television hum] PREACHER SAMPLE: “If you can hear my voice… there is still time to repent.” [silence] FEMALE: Mmm… No. [switch clicks] MALE: Good answer. [RIFF SLAMS BACK] BREAKDOWN MALE — screamed BURN! CROWD: THE SIGNAL! MALE: BREAK! CROWD: THE ALTAR! MALE: KILL! CROWD: THE NOISE! FEMALE — screamed mezzo belt: AND MAKE IT LOUDER! [half-time industrial groove] MALE: Steel-tooth rhythm! Dead man's choir! Throw another halo On the amplifier! FEMALE: Static in my bloodstream, Thunder in my chest— If this is damnation… [beat stops] FEMALE — whisper: I wore my best. [guitar scrape] MALE: OH YEAH! BRIDGE [broken piano + distant choir] FEMALE — haunting clean mezzo I heard angels through the interference, Calling somewhere far away. But every voice became distorted When I asked them why I should stay. Maybe heaven lost our number. Maybe heaven never called. MALE — quiet rasp Maybe we spent our whole damn lives Waiting for nothing at all. [static rises] FEMALE: Then stop waiting. FINAL CHORUS [full band erupts] BOTH: SAINTS IN THE STATIC! HALOS BURNING AUTOMATIC! SAINTS IN THE STATIC! TURN THAT NIGHTMARE CINEMATIC! MALE: CRANK THAT SERMON! FEMALE: MAKE IT SCREAM! MALE: DRAG YOUR HEAVEN— FEMALE: THROUGH THE MACHINE! BOTH: Raise your hands! Let the whole world crack! SAINTS IN THE STATIC! CROWD: WE AIN'T COMING BACK! BOTH: SAINTS IN THE STATIC! CROWD: WE AIN'T COMING BACK! FEMALE — soaring: Ohhhhhhh— MALE: ONE! MORE! TIME! EVERYONE: SAINTS! IN! THE! STATIC! OUTRO [radio dial slowly scanning empty frequencies] PREACHER SAMPLE: “Are there any believers still listening?” [long static] FEMALE — distant whisper: Only us. [electrical click] MALE — distorted: Amen to that. [low female laugh] [signal dies]
