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Spite Drought
01:23
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Spite Drought
They withered away like our love
She watered her plants but left me to dry
I am preaching but not to the choir
She soaked my last match to reignite the fire
Deep in her stomach like the one that burns in mine
Words: Bek Binnie
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Threats Hobart, Australia
Threats enjoy playing too many notes, too quickly for their own ability and screaming about what troubles them from stages cluttered with guava Cruiser bottles. When it comes to bands, as with life itself, you can choose to sit on the fence. If you do so with Threats, the fence might splinter, and you will be impaled. So why not jump down and take the plunge with them into fervent oblivion. ... more
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