1. |
Emil Minty
01:13
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2. |
Trace Amounts
03:44
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Swim through the tar
Must touch the edge
Stumps burn or is that your incessant whining?
Tearing up the coloured rugs
Wholewheat is fine
The wooden stake washed up on the rocks
Even by tide
Glassed from the jar you drink from
Who has time to pray?
Life slips away
The wooden stake washed up on the rocks
Glassed from the jar you drink from
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3. |
Goat Skin
02:08
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Goat skin
Hold my wine
Wrap my dad
Put me inside, Lucifer hide
Keeping me dry, wear it or die
A change in the winter must never be cold and skin from my Billy must never be sold.
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4. |
Gunt Hags
02:39
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5. |
Griezzell Greedigutt
04:09
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Griezzell sees the garden, he does not see the witch
Needles, bodkins, sleight of hand, but it’s you that he will stitch
Soames, Pyewackett, Vinegar Tom, Griezzell Greedigut
They will rise
Time to start the pricking, tie her to the chair
Heretics confess your sins, the witch-prickers are there
Soames, Pyewackett, Vinegar Tom, Griezzell Greedigut
They will rise
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6. |
Tad D
03:01
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Cracking on the beaten track of this relationshit,
A swallowed pip is growing in a gut obsessed with keeping thin,
To break a back, a word carved in, a common man, a cup of gin,
Oh, I see you hold a grin while balls they slap upon your chin
Mushie rings, a broken shard, a counterpoint, a counterpart
Rushing for the stage, a porcelain cup, a ripping shart,
I got a feeling and it’s backing the dice oh yeah,
Thrashing, while I ride the electric chair
I’m really not poetic but I need a bunch of words to write,
Come on, the placement is all I care, and it’s a fight,
When you write a song this fast you need to churn out all this shit,
I got this far, thank fuck at last, there’s not much in the words I spit
Heading down the final straight, thrash odyssey,
I may deliver but it might not be today,
I’m watching grass grow so stay off my lawn kids,
The tide is high, so leap into the rapids
Batten down,
Join in the fray,
The beast is saved,
To goat I pray
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7. |
I'm Not Stopping
01:45
|
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Aaah
Aoaoaoaoaoao
Blat
Eeeeek
Ack ack oooook
Dakka dooka ding dang
I’m not stopping,
No, I’m not stopping
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8. |
The Ballad of Crom
00:22
|
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9. |
Pyramid of Khurtz
04:07
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10. |
Mutatis Mutandis
02:50
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I offered to make right,
I’m upon you, watch my step,
A pocket of quicksand,
Ten marks around your neck
Gelatinous golem,
Not frozen but warbling,
Like a sea-gonk moulting,
While further afield,
A flock of drones attack the vile
Linseed charter,
Responsorial Salem,
The second time you do it fight
A brick is in the sack,
Some stones are made to skip,
I’ll take back the hard words,
But you keep the blunt tip
A stringer of hard facts,
You brought back the parcel,
Untrusting the midlife,
Now trapped in its castle
I’ve never listened in the past so why would I now,
Can hear the pitch,
Can hear the sound,
They kicked me off the gameshow
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11. |
Black Mountain
02:49
|
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A shadow patrols on the foot of the mountain
The beast wields its weapon at the entrance to the tower
The witch he manipulates the weather on the mountain
Commanding the hail and fire on the villagers below
The cloisters contain artefacts in the tower
Remnants of the ghosts who were slain by the wizard
Black Mountain
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12. |
Enter the Spazmos
03:32
|
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Colour and vapour, you want to be mean,
Pushing round the corner to encompass a scene,
Sobbing in the chapel because it gets you erect,
A Viktor Bolenko, it’s time to defect
Digging like a truffle pig for something you’re not,
Cold face album killer, where’s your garrotte,
Shit you held too long on to your pacifier,
Now you’re throwing fuel on your funeral pyre
Who put the dong in the dinga danga dang?
Who put the ram in the ramadaman g’dang?
Zimbazu camada cudama
Eh by gum, laddie
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13. |
Stink Man
09:19
|
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Just when you thought that the stink had gone, there's a new stench on the breeze.
Whipping up a haze like the turns in a maze, which way turning, which way turning?
The maze don't matter when your climbing the walls and the Sheriff ain't lookin for proof.
But the Sheriff left town now the judge is around, he's nailin’ on the roof, nailin’ on the roof!
Calling back the ghosts of old, the Stink Man starts to rumble.
Stinking up these dusty walls, another one crumbles, another ones crumbling. Another one crumbling down.
No more hula hoops, no more singing, no more moving pictures.
Hide away you treasures, put away your pleasures, Stink mans burning witches
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14. |
Postcones
03:21
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2615
3000
0800
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Canberra Cannons Canberra, Australia
Canberra Cannons indulge in musical disorder in Australia’s capital city, Canberra.
Forged over a gruelling winter through
sub-zero temperatures, Canberra Cannons emerged with ‘a few thrash songs’ to play to friends.
They eventually entered the studio to record what was originally planned to be a possible EP’s worth of tunes. The results are on this site.
Canberra Cannons give 110%.
... more
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