The Canongrinder


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released July 30, 2016

Tim - bass, vocals.
Crispin - drums, vocals.



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WRØNG Melbourne, Australia

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Track Name: Waste
I'm bored, nothing interests me.
This shit is fucking killing me.
I'm tired, all I do is sleep.
I need out, I'm in too deep.

I'm mad, I'm fucking over it.
Not at you, just myself.
If you want to do something.
Don't hesitate just do it now.
Tomorrow you might not be here.
Who's to say how long we have?

We all have to die some day.

People die every day.
Track Name: Book Burner
You see these books, you strike a match.
You burn our books, we burn your house.
Track Name: Pious, Dead
You, the keeper.
The keeper of the faith.
Defiler of this place.
Maintainer of this state.
This state of decay.
Your power-play.
And you wondered why we wanted you to die...

You, defender.
Custodian, protector.
Protector of your power.
While your victims cower.
Hiding from your blame.
Hiding in their shame.
Their hate amplified by your every lie...

Your god let you die.

You, the keeper.
The keeper of the faith.
Defiler of this place.
Maintainer of this state.
Paralysed, helpless.
You died selfless.
Your faith, not mine.
Your life was worthless.
Disabled, defeated.
Your life depleted.
Your hate, not mine.
Cured, lying lifeless.
Your corpse, not mine.
Track Name: Remove The Right Wing
We cannot move forward to true freedom if people think.
That they are genetically predisposed.
To be smarter, stronger and more deserving.
These people are toxic, they'd sooner see you die.
Than lose that foothold in their mind.
That what they say is the word of god.

Think what you want to think, I really couldn't give a fuck.
But when your words of hate and pride turn to actions.
Don't think we won't be there with the rest of the world to push you back.

The right wing cannot be clipped.
It must be removed.
Track Name: Not Fit For Office
What am I doing?
I'm not fit for office.
How was I so blind?
To the signs around me.

What am I doing?
I'm not fit for office.
The damage is done.
My legacy is fucked.

What am I doing?
I'm not fit for office.
I have doomed us all.
Track Name: Death To Kings
Death to kings.

You really think you can hold us back?
Throttle us with your chains.
Trying relentlessly to scare us with your talk.
Of war, disease, financial collapse.

Death to kings.
Track Name: Lung Damage
Can't stop coughing.

This torturous pain.
Please make it stop.
Give me the morphine.
I'm afraid of what I'll do without it.

Can't stop coughing.

I'll do anything to have peace.
Just stop this raging agony.

Can't stop coughing.

Spit, phlegm and blood.
Replacing the air in my lungs.

Can't stop coughing.

This torturous pain.
Please make it stop.
Give me the morphine.
I'm afraid of what I'll do without it.

Spit, phlegm and blood.
Replacing the air in my lungs.
Track Name: No Epitaph
Your lungs collapsed.
No epitaph.
No-one remembers.
Your life, your death.
You left nothing.
You had nothing.
You were nothing.
Track Name: Dirty Bomb
You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.
The memory still fresh in your mind.
You hear the screams in your head.
Now you're sick, you're weak, you're losing your hair.

You've been told you haven't got long to live.

Why did they do this?
For what purpose am I dying?
Will someone please tell me?
Before I die.

Why'd this have to happen to me?

Dirty bomb.
Track Name: The Pigs Of Parliament
You can't do this, you can't do that.
What country am I living in?

You can't say this, you can't say that.
We'll cut your tongue out and feed it to the people.

You can't be this, you can't be that.
We brought this on ourselves.

You can't think this, you can't think that.
We should have killed you when we could.
Track Name: No Cure For Free Thinking
Why do I think the way I do?
My brain can really sicken me.
My mind has and can draw thoughts.
That make me heave and reach for days.

The walls between this world and mine.
Are wearing away with no sign of stopping.
I desperately try and try.
To stop this caving in on me.

If someone was to hear.
What I think without a filter.
Dragging hard.
They'd cough, throw up, collapse and scream.
And die of cancer three weeks later.
Track Name: Death By Non-Lethal Weapons
Don't worry.
It's just mace.
Just a beanbag.
Just a flash grenade.

It won't kill you.
But it'll make you blind.
Rupture your insides.
And blow out your ears.

Don't worry.
It's just teargas.
Just a tazer.
Just a rubber bullet.

It won't kill you.
But it'll burn your lungs.
Give you a seizure.
And split your head.

Don't worry.
It won't kill you.
We promise.
Track Name: The German Guns
Torn apart by the German guns.
Track Name: We, The Bacteria
We are the bacteria.
We have the power.
We hold your life in our hands.
Track Name: I Don't Know
I need a job.
I don't want one.
What do i want?
I don't know.
I wanna live.
But i cant.
Shit costs money I don't have.

I want to stand on my own two feet.
But i cant afford any.
I search for things.
That I want.
But it's all pointless.
I don't need it.
Money makes me happy.
That makes me sick.
Sick at my self.
What am I?
What am I doing?
What do I stand for?
I'm only human?
What is human?

Time moves slow.
Far too slow.
My brain feels dead.
As I wait.
For something to happen.
Is something gonna happen?
Nothing's gonna happen.
What do I want?

What do I want?
I don't know.
What do I want?
I don't know.
Track Name: Father Of Fire
Father of fire burn it all.
Burn us all and start anew.
Track Name: We Can't Help You
Every day I'm in pain.
All I hear is "sorry, we can't help you."
Track Name: I Didn't Go
I didn't go.
Why didn't I go?
I didn't go 'cause I'm a lazy fuck.
How many other people didn't go who should have gone to stop this madness?

Would things be different if I went?
I don't know.
I could have tried.
With everyone else who stood their ground.
In the path of this corporate cancer.
Track Name: De-Ohminisation
Worthless, tiny, insignificant speck of dust.
Why do you even live?
You're nothing but vermin.
Just roll over and die.
Breath in the pesticides.
Track Name: Surge Part II
I will not wait.
I will not stand.
I will not bear this iron hand.
Track Name: Drawing Pictures Of Muhammad
Suppression of content.
Caved in to the pressure.
From a vocal minority.
A violent minority.

Condescending tolerance.

Drawing pictures of Muhammad.
Will get you killed.

No-one has a monopoly on the right to get offended.
Track Name: Septic Dog Bite
Exuding fluid.
Lymphatic fluid.
Pus, bile.
Submitting to infection.
Lethal infection.

You thought it was nothing.
Why would you see a doctor?

Pulse elevates.
Condition escalates.
Dog bite leads to complications that end in excruciating death.

Septic dog bite.
Track Name: Noise & Fire
Voice will.
Deafen the.
Blind and blind the.
Deaf of the world 'cause.
We are the noise and fire.
We are the noise and fire.

Our voices will burn.
Our fires will deafen.
Track Name: The Malingering Signs
The living man howls at the sea.
Calls to the past to come mother the free.
To uproot the great white burning tree.
For now there remains but only three.

Its vile fourth eye darted and scanned for it wanted to see who would smack his hammer against the warhead.

Do not shoot the messenger of death,
For he brings only the words dictated by your own foul breath.
He beckon us all towards the solemn door.
It’s time we must return from whence we came before.

And the day they failed to put it in,
Was the day foretold for the swells to begin.

A beast of such burden and vulgar lament,
Enough force in his word to warp the sacred stone.
It spoke with the conviction of the celestial giants.
Sounding his steps in the great void hall.
Gaze never tearing, its goal never wavering.
Staring, staring, staring, staring.

The heathens, the doubters of the northern sign.
How dare you point your finger at mine.

Sirens rolling through the towering hills.
Burrowing through your thoughts louder than ten thousand boring drills.

Always demanding favour and never repaying.
While everyone watches their life-line a-fraying.
With their loved ones silently crying for they wish they could help.
While their enemies eagerly anticipate the return of their precious gelt.

This land of mine, a pulsating mound.
Gestated in the minds of those who surround.
I don’t know whether to pick things up or put things down.
Here in this land that taught me to drown.

The mason clapping his hand on the stone.
Whilst the butcher is gnawing and gnashing on bones.
The man of the salt wails and moans,
As he toils and mines into worlds of his own.

Listen to the words of those who worship the sound.
Unheard by the living, by only the found.
By the screaming soul of the cold, hard ground.
Here in this land that taught us to drown.

This land of the dirt and the shattered crown.
This land of dirt that taught us to drown.
This drowning land that shattered its crown.
So it could finally hear the deafening sound.

Do not shoot the messenger of death.
For he only brings the words dictated by your own foul breath.

He forces your hand to rewrite what’s long been written.
It must be you who is to open the blackened door.
Writhe in the waters cast down by oblivion.
It’s time we must return from whence we came before.

And to those who doubted the malingering signs.
How dare you point your finger at mine.