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lyrics

There is a slight fading memory that sometimes will occupy my dreams
Until the cold morning light does pierce through my sleeping eyes.

I won't forget the scattered impression;
The blissful sketch, the trace of your expression
Echoes of your soft hands and excitement fill your eyes

Our steps; so confident
Our grasp to never weaken
Our silence to always permeate

But now in broken radios
Caught in between the waves and their decompositions
Well this is our broken home
Where the degradation is woven into the pattern of my new gaze.

There is a slight fading memory that sometimes will occupy my dreams
Until the cold morning light does pierce through my sleeping eyes.

(These bleak soundscapes will never change)

credits

from In Broken Morse Code, released September 9, 2009

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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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