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lyrics

And as a writhing mess you came to me
Eyes wide open and bearing your teeth
Dragging all we had in your wake

This is all I want to say this time
Find a way to keep your thoughts in line
So we can just live out our days

And so the rain slides off these crumbled slates of ours
And now I cannot move for all the judging eyes
And so the rain slides off into my frozen arms again
And I will be buried in all this crushing time, you will see

All that I can hear you spit and hiss
is that there is some old wisdom in this
But I will never listen, no.

credits

from Where No Seeds Will Grow, released April 29, 2011

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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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