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lyrics

These bleak soundscapes will never change.

The surrounding abandonment is a single path eroded into the sunset
Isolated by chipped iron walls
Where this language collapsed inwards;
Fell to the matted ground and evaporated
But now: a slow, becoming ascendance
With the first broadcast tearing through summer nights
Careering forwards as a contorted coalesce
Our new satellite, so bold;
Only to disintegrate in these streets
Where the lights flicker in broken morse code.

These bleak soundscapes will never change.

credits

from In Broken Morse Code, track released September 9, 2009

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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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