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lyrics

I remember all the small details hidden in grey-scale words
They escape from dying languages spoken only in colour.

Like the texture in your own blue darting eyes
Becoming fixated on the steps I take across the floor
Like the movement of your body as you sleep
Becoming softer and softer with a new triumphant ease.

I remember when I came to you as a soldier primed for war
But instead I crumpled in your arms.

And there will always be a repetition.

And maybe we will stumble in a generations' time
When we are tired of dissidence and our shared relief
But until then I'll dig my hands into this land of clay
But until then I'll shape the ground on which we spend our days.

credits

from In Broken Morse Code, released September 9, 2009

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all rights reserved

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about

The Contortionist London, UK

The Contortionist is me, Andy Hirst; usually alone, but sometimes with friends. We even had a proper band for a while (The Contortionist and The Wandering Boy Poets).

I've been in a load of bands over the years playing various things: drums in Nixon, The Broken Chairs, and The Purgatory Players, guitar in Situationists, guitar/keys/vocals in Japanese Sleepers and Fall Forwards.
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