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Australian Made

by Dead Kelly

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1.
Don’t trust no cunt Crushed by golden hypocrites Nothing filters down Your blue collar begins to choke you Nothings ever good enough Material things are now the new god Live past our means is the only way to worship Do we trust them? I don’t trust them You don’t trust them We don’t want them But our voices don’t mean shit You say fuck them We say fuck them While we all feed the pig pen You can’t escape the golden grip Empty suits with the blood of puppets Streaming to the cause With the promise of a plastic wife with a re-bored vagina Every story has an ad Every ad has a story of greed Front page news in the world today Some rich chick took a picture of her arsehole The media skull fucking us Politics just smoking dicks With offshore bank accounts And first class business trips You can’t trust a human to be human But you can trust the machine to be the machine You can’t trust a human to be human But you can trust the machine to be the machine Do we trust them? I don’t trust them You don’t trust them We don’t want them But our voices don’t mean shit You say fuck them We say fuck them While we all feed the pig pen You can’t escape the golden grip Don’t trust no cunt
2.
I know it’s hard sometimes just to find the drive And it’s hard sometimes just being alive Get ya fucking arse up snap out of this shit You’ve got one life it’s the only chance you’ll get Get rid of the cunts and sluts holding you back Bleed out negative blood that’s gonna make you snap Stop living like an animal trapped in a cage Push forward fucken engage! PUSH FORWARD FUCKEN ENGAGE! Don’t live your life like you’re under cover Grab the world by the throat and choke the mother fucker Stop talkin shit just fucken do it Now your minds on fire I’m the one that lit it Don’t be afraid to be yourself it’s up to you and no one else Stop living like an animal trapped in a cage Push forward fucken engage! PUSH FORWARD FUCKEN ENGAGE! Sometimes life does its best to grind you into the dirt Sometimes life’s a cunt and you’ve had a gut full So make ya fucken mark make history It’s up to you what you wanna be Stop living like an animal trapped in a cage Push forward fucken engage! PUSH FORWARD FUCKEN ENGAGE! They want you to believe lies they feed to you They are here to crush you and to hold you down Wake up now and tell those cunts to suck it It’s all on you don’t let those fuckers fuck it! PUSH FORWARD
3.
The boys have eyed her off all night Who the fuck knows where she’s from Slides off her stool to get a drink She’s got no knickers on Tits are pouring out her bra It’s driving the lads mad Tightest fucken arse on her It’ll make you punch your granddad Jesse Patton put on a stride A bull rider from the sticks “I’m gonna towel this sheila up While you cunts play with your dicks!” Now, she’s in your town The nightmare, it’s Linda Brown She won’t stop She’s got an angle, she’s a grinder And she won’t fucken rest ‘Till she’s got the chop She might take you home dickhead If you’re shouting the next round At three thirty three you’ll be fucking dead You drunk piece of shit, you better go down She said “Don’t fucken cum yet or I’ll fucken kill ya” Jesse looked confused then he blew his load Mr Patton took a breath and nodded off She grabbed his knob and stretched it out and cut it off! Spurting! Freaking out! Blood was in his cough. Into her handbag goes another severed cock! She dragged him closer to the car Jesse almost dead (oh fuck) Dragged the cunt beneath the wheel Dropped a burnout on his head Brains and asphalt meet She had a pretty good one this week From town to town, it’s going down The outback nightmare - Linda Brown! Now, she’s in your town The nightmare, it’s Linda Brown She won’t stop She’s got an angle, she’s a grinder And she won’t fucken rest ‘Till she’s got the chop She might take you home dickhead If you’re shouting the next round At three thirty three you’ll be fucking dead You drunk piece of shit, you better go down Go down! SHE’S THE OUTBACK NIGHTMARE! SHE’S THE OUTBACK NIGHTMARE! Another town, another place Shitcunts drinking, off their face Flash this big cunt bit of vag She’ll kill this bloke back at his dad’s And when she thinks she’s got her fix She’ll add his cock to the bag of dicks That’s right cunts, she’s in your town The outback nightmare - Linda Brown! Now, she’s in your town The nightmare, it’s Linda Brown She won’t stop She’s got an angle, she’s a grinder And she won’t fucken rest ‘Till she’s got the chop She might take you home dickhead If you’re shouting the next round At three thirty three you’ll be fucking dead You drunk piece of shit, you better go down Go down! SHE’S THE OUTBACK NIGHTMARE! SHE’S THE OUTBACK NIGHTMARE! SHE’S THE OUTBACK NIGHTMARE!
4.
From far and wide across the sea they came to mine the gold The rush of getting rich some escaping horrors never told The goldfields run by shit cunts drunk with power and corruption If you didn’t watch your step you’d get bashed for nothing They stood their ground They won’t back down From all different nations, seas they came across They unite by the Southern Cross The crown came down hard and tried to split them up Ahh the diggers wouldn’t have it and told them to go get fucked They built themselves a big stockade With the red coat cunts all keen to blue The diggers were prepared to die The screams echo FUCK YOU! They stood their ground They won’t back down From all different nations, seas they came across They unite by the Southern Cross They stood their ground They won’t back down Fortune and dreams of freedom almost lost They unite by the Southern Cross The red coat cunts attack The diggers fought side by side Many that day would lose there lives Beneath the southern sky The diggers may have lost the fight but they made a fucken stand In the end the corrupt crown would bow down to their demands Persisting loss and horror the diggers got it done Dreams of fortune, freedom Have been fucken won They stood their ground They won’t back down From all different nations, seas they came across They unite by the Southern Cross They held their ground They won’t back down Fortune and dreams of freedom almost lost They unite by the Southern Cross Just goes to show Fuck all the bullshit Fuck all the lies Fuck their agenda It will be their demise From all different nations And the seas we came across We unite by the Southern Cross UNITE! UNITE!
5.
Bungendore brothers were 3 Grown out of dirt to a family Slept to the sound of the shears Something’s always happenin livin out here Dad worked hard, Mum was love 3 boys learnt, 3 boys hunt Droughts would come, they stayed tough And rise from the dust And Dad made the call, the boys were at an age It was time to go to school Bags were packed for the trip The family dog embraced the grip A Bungendore brother’s journey How much fun this could be Mum bought tears, Dad stayed tough 3 boys fear, 3 boys chuffed As the train left the station Not prepared for the horror awaiting them They were just kids Infested by god’s hand picked wretched men By the grace of god, they were broken Time and time again With a fucken amen their souls were murdered When will this end? It’s over 3 men go separate ways Darkened by darkened days Days are long, nights are long Get the call - Mum’s passed on Dad’s sorrow calls them back to the farm Boys gotta head home After the wake at the pub Hearts are sinking onto the mud Bungendore brothers look at themselves So much time on the shelf Mum was love, now Dad’s fucked We can’t talk, we’re all fucked Junkie, piss head, black dog, yeah that’s us The brothers drink the night and fight the morning The TV in the pub pipes up, it’s a new story The catholic church won’t take responsibility After a cunt ton of beers The brothers hatched a plan Revenge would set the tone After two years of gettin clean And training to be fucken killers They would make their way to Rome The years went by, they stayed true to the plan Leaving with a heart full of hate And a shake of their Dad’s hand The 3 monsters have landed They have come to prepare Call the connection Recon, intel AR15s and phosphorous grenades Each brother has a combat knife And two 9mm pistols 12 gauge shotgun AK47 motherfucker While a brother wraps gaff around another brother Dressin’ like the Swiss Guard Hope it hides a black heart Ok my brothers, I love yas, we are three It’s time to bring the wrath and let the whole world see And on this day they will be the ones to suffer for once Let’s send these fuckers to their god And see what he wants to do with the cunts Let’s go boys, fuck em up! And so it began The St Peters bloodbath Men of cloth torn by bullets Faces caved in, fatal blood loss The cathedral repainted with death Cardinals are set alight, begging for the brother’s knives The three show no mercy No mercy No mercy No mercy NO MERCY NO MERCY NO MERCY They reload their weapons The world will see, this killing spree, revenge was sweet We got em all, they’re all dead, dead, fucking dead They’re all dead, dead, see yas in hell They’re all dead, dead, fucking dead They’re all dead, dead All except one And there he sits laced in gold And frozen by fear the blood spattered brothers Engulf his presence They slowly make their way past the altar And at this time the old man feels not the hand of god But the 3 hands of truth It was the 3 hands of truth They strip him naked And dragged him to the altar 12 gauge shotty up his arse One of the other brothers makes him deep throat a 9 mil This will be a message from the 3 And you will die choking on your lies And we will live for eternity In the history of your demise We will live for eternity In the history of your demise Righto lads, this is for all those people who suffered like us On 3 - ONE, TWO... So it’s job and knock for the brothers Each blood stained hand holds a pistol To the temple of the brother beside him “We fucken did it boys” And with a look of love, some tears and a cheeky smirk The triggers were pulled And they fell into a triangle The Bungendore brothers are free
6.
Life is an up hill battle I’m in the shit again Can you throw a bloke a paddle Watch me unravel As I go to this dark cold place Give me room give me space Cause I’m off my face I’m off me fucken head again Knuckles busted up again Fuck must have punched the shed again He’s coming for you You fucken told him to Here he comes The same cunt with the blunt And the box of piss Tellin me to have another one ‘Nother hit ...personality shift I am the definition of fucked I am the king of this disorder I am my worst enemy’s enemy No one can bash the fuck out of me like me This bloke’s got a bit on his plate at the moment This cold amber liquid Got me feelin fucking loaded Real me on the snooze And the demon on the move I’m possessed need an exorcist Did ya think it’d come to this May the power of alcohol compel me to be a dead set fuckwit Fuck off I am the definition of fucked I am the king of this disorder I am my worst enemy’s enemy No one can bash the fuck out of me like me It satisfies you to watch loved ones Pass judgment on a working class cunt Let me light one up It’s your negative competitive objective Someone give me a sedative Before I’m dead in the bed I’m in My nightmares filled with adrenalin You celebrate when I’m suffering Had enough of em Nicotine that I’m puffin on Give me sumthin for nuffin I am the definition of fucked I am the king of this disorder I am my worst enemy’s enemy No one can bash the fuck out of me like me
7.
Instrumental.
8.
The Melaleuca’s sway back and forth As he trudges through the scrub Sweat drains through his beard, hot sun boils his blood Pains of hunger setting in, he must find a place to rest Find himself some dinner, another fucking test Peeling back the banksia to see a bank wet and damp A second win, a cheeky grin, a perfect place to camp All set up, who comes bouncing by? A big red bastard, twinkle in his eye A shakey hand scoops up rifle leaning by the tree Rests the rifle on a dead log as slowly as can be “Sorry mate, I gotta to eat” What a meal that night Down by the creek Thoughts flow freely under the Southern Cross Demons teach a bloke who’s boss Far away, blood of many on his hands While the creek cools down his cans Last tin crushed, fire all but coals It’s time to turn in Out here no-one judges any man For a life of sin There’s peaceful dreams to seek The cicadas echo through the night Down by the creek At first light with dusty eyes he sees an unfamiliar sight An eight foot salty carving through the creek Like a sharpened knife Then a sound more familiar, in seconds to arrive A cloud of dust, a siren flash, a copper’s four wheel drive Desperate scramble for his gun, time not on his side Nine millimetres drawn “Oi, ya cunt. You’re coming for a ride” With a desperate deadly stare Which meets both coppers in the eyes “Fuck you ya fucken pigs...” YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE! YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE! YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE! To the boys in blue amazement, he turns his back on them It’s not a fucken option locked up in a pen Takes off his shirt off, wades into the water The eight foot salty savours the slaughter With a last deep breath for courage He feels the mud with moving feet The coppers hear him whisper softly “It’s ok mate, you gotta eat” Now at rest there’s always plenty peaceful dreams to seek The kookaburras didn’t laugh that morning Down by the creek
9.
With a blinding light And a smell that could melt a full grown wombat Borry said “Settle down cock fucker.” “Have a go at ya, who shat in your lunch box?” The demonic entity eye raped Borry But he’ll have none of that “I am The Fist of Eureka, and no cunt’s ever gonna fuck with that!” Yet here stands the Cunt of Cunts The demon lord that’s gonna fuck you up “Open the box of beer and pack the bong, let’s settle this cunt - thong dick thong” The Cunt of Cunts tells Borry if he wins He can have whatever he wants Borry wins the battle with a powerful strike Shattering the demon’s cods The dark lord balled up in pain Said “Ok cunt, whatchya want?” “I want to be the best Aussie metal drummer in the fucken world” “It is done” In a cloud of dust he disappears Like Satan’s grandma’s dildo He punched some cones and grabbed his box “Righto, it’s time to go” He’s pissed as fuck, he sees a shadow in his truck He opens the door and says “What the fuck?” With Gemima pointed high he says “Step outside” The figure hits the road and says “I reary want a ride” The sunrise shows itself And reveals that the stow away Was a small Asian sheila with sick tits Who was dressed like a schlong magnet And she said “My name is Migoumi, got nowhere to go and I’m reary sad” Borry said “Sick cunt” picked her up And spiral cut out passed her into the cab While he was fucking her he couldn’t believe That such a small little sheila could cop it so sweet Usually he’d scare the women with his monster cock But Migoumi, she wrestled it like Irwin on a croc That morning she got pregnant 4 times With a fight in mind in Mt Isa He gunned it down the road He snorts some wizzer off her tits While she packs a cone Cyclists on the road Borry thought he needed some fresh air Crawls out through the window to the bonnet Farts twice, loads Gemima Blasting middle aged spandex suss cunts Pulls up to an old pub Called The Drunken Dingo Inn A Cold Chisel cover band was playing while he ordered 7 schooners for himself A pot of pink lemonade And a pack of twisties for Migoumi The drummer of the band throws his sticks to Borry “Have a go cunt” “Yeah fucken righto” The sickest beats blast through the pub Thunder cracks outside Happy cheers turn into screams People start to die Solo finished, sticks are thrown Melted corpses, limbs are lost Migoumi’s in the pokie room Giving birth to the sons of Boz He named them all - Lorry, Semi, Truck and Dog His boys were born with beards and all “You boys are gonna fucken need to work, So here’s a hard hat each and a hi-viz shirt Clean yourself up. Mum, get back in the truck Wish me luck, make your dad proud Run amok, don’t give a fuck Got a fight, gotta go, might catch yas round if I’m ever in town Probably not, anyway, I’m Isa bound.” He’s back on the road again He hits the picks at Isa Foodworks And people start to gather Borry got Migoumi put five hundjy on him for the win There stands ‘Jimmy Two Papers’ A bare knuckle street fighter from Hervey Bay The fight began and J2P hit him really fucken hard With a left hook that binged him on the beak Borry laughed “Are you jokin cunt?” Blood dripped into his beard The Fist of Eureka’s eyes went white Threw a devastating right It crushed Jimmy Two Paper’s throat And it threw him to the ground He grinded Jimmy’s face off with his beard Then he put Jimmy in a trolley And wheeled him to a Cleanaway truck That’s about to pick up a bin He kicked the driver out of the truck Impaled Jimmy on the bin pickerupperer And loaded him the bin Put a brick on the pedal Sent the truck off a cliff And then he lit a spliff
10.
Fuck who you are with your face full of glass Junkie in a kid’s park breakin’ into cars No wonder why chicks get raped Planned it at your mates place While you’re chewin’ off your face These crystal cockheads flood the streets No singlets, thongs, no fuckin teeth Lookin in your yard seein’ what you got What can an ice head flog to hock? You knew that path was paved in shit No-one forced you to take that hit Bleed your family dry Slave to the crystal pipe And now your life has turned to shit No-one to blame but you fuckwit And now you’re dead inside Slave to the crystal pipe They use lies to survive These motherfuckers like dead shit wasps to a hive Just fuckin die It’s not our fault you need a crutch Get a job you useless cunt These crystal cockheads flood the streets No singlets, thongs, no fuckin teeth Lookin in your yard seein’ what you got These dirty cunts might steal your dog! You knew that path was paved in shit No-one forced you to take that hit Bleed your family dry Slave to the crystal pipe And now your life has turned to shit No-one to blame but you fuckwit And now you’re dead inside Slave to the crystal pipe It’s not our fault you’re dumb as dog shit It’s not our fault you fucken steal shit It’s your fault stop blaming others It’s your fault, you’re to blame You hear me Everyone has given up on you, why? Coz they got sick of your delusion and your lies That shit has turned you into a filthy fucking parasite You’ll rort your mates just to get a fix Fuck off! You knew that path was paved in shit No-one forced you to take that hit Bleed your family dry Slave to the crystal pipe And now your life has turned to shit No-one to blame but you fuckwit And now you’re dead inside Slave to the crystal pipe You’re dead inside Slave to the crystal pipe Parasite
11.
It has begun By day Kcuf Daeh absorbed solar torrents Sun scorched the town of Yandina Kcuf Daeh stays patient knowing That he’ll consume in the black hours Between two and four he would emit A hypnotic subterranean pulse Animals from all over the town Awoke in a trance like state The mindless horde arrived At Pump Station Road The animals threw themselves down Into the darkness of the waterhole Kcuf Daeh consumes them all Yandina was gripped with worry But life went on and all the traditions Of smoking marijuana, eating beer And making children Were all upheld that night Next morning presented a terror That would send the town Into upheaval and panic Every child and teenager From the age of 3 to 19 were gone Tales of the tremors Filled the pub with tension The black hours were upon the town again A gargantuan pulse shook the town Old man Hunter from a drunken slumber Rose from his lost dog’s bed And dragged his arse out to his front gate Old man Hunter’s old bones Paralysed with fear at the sight Of the procession’s lack of consciousness As they paraded through the dark streets He joins the mindless mass out of curiosity They all converge at Pump Station Road And begin their ghastly decent Kcuf Daeh calls them with a monstrous pulse One more time The waterhole drained to reveal A grotesque orb like monstrosity A horrid sound vomited forth And echoed around the stone chasm The smell was profound Old man Hunter breaks free From the zombie parade KCUF DAEH! Old man Hunter was filled with dread As the hypnotised townspeople Fell into the repulsive aqueous eye Of Kcuf Daeh He lives a life of solitude Fear, lost mind, paranoia He will never return to That macabre Pump Station Road
12.
We’re creating technology That’s gettin smarter And we’re using the shit And we’re gettin fucken dumber How’s that fucken work? In this age of entitlement Our heads are jammed so far up our own arses All we can see is our own fucken shit What the fuck! What the fuck is going on? Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give It won’t It won’t be long Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give In this digital world We spew forth love and peace and shit But what does that matter If you’re a cunt in reality We all have the right to freedom of speech We also have the choice not to always blurt out What’s goin through our fucken spuds What the fuck! What the fuck is going on? Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give It won’t It won’t be long Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give! Everyone looking for the easy way Everyone wins a prize A keyboard is just a keyboard But a fist is a fist What the fuck! What the fuck is going on? Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give It won’t It won’t be long Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Fuckheads come in all colours Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give Something’s gotta give The left and the right flap Both belong to the same cunt
13.
In the far northwest in the eye of the cyclone He rises from beneath the mangroves A thousand years he’s been at rest The Crab God has risen Grab ya shit and fucken run That Redclaw’s gotta be fifty ton! He makes his way south This big cunt’s heading for a mining town Buck gets on the UHF “Aah copy Gary - ahh you see what I’m seein’ mate?” “Yeah yeah copy that Buck, looks like a giant fucken mudcrab.” Gary gets crushed in his truck Buck swings his bucket like a mad cunt trying to fuck it up He gets on the blower to Jenny It’s the rise, it’s the rise of the Redclaw He’s here to kill us all Get fucken ready for war! Fucken oath! It’s the rise, it’s the rise of the Redclaw We’ve gotta band together Bring this motherfucker down! Down south workin’ on another site Jenny picks up the phone “Hey sweetheart, it’s me. Hey listen, I don’t think I’m comin’ home.” Phone cuts out and Jenny wept Redclaw snaps Buck’s fucken neck And does a giant crab shit on the site shed PPE can’t save us now The smoko cunt got melted in that crab shit The first aid bloke got fucken stomped Twisted metal, mud and blood Radio silence, site is fucked The 50 ton mudcrab lets out another horrid roar It’s the rise, it’s the rise of the Redclaw He’s here to kill us all Get fucken ready for war! Fucken oath! It’s the rise, it’s the rise of the Redclaw We’ve gotta band together Bring this motherfucker down! The crab moves south It comes across a meth lab Filled with scratchy dickheads They scatter like ants And lie to each other as they fill their pockets Redclaw rips the skulls from their heads The acid from deep inside digests the dead He devours the meth lab Nothing stopping the God Mudcrab Jenny retrofits steel spikes to her loader She won’t stop till she’s got revenge and it’s over She welds through the night With Redclaw now in sight Demo charges set alight Jenny wants to flank him from the right The miners stop and stare in awe Then die by the Redclaw The explosions rock the site Jenny charges forward in her loader This is for you Buck, she don’t give a fuck She has lost a straight up good cunt who she loved And she don’t care anymore It’s the rise, it’s the rise of the Redclaw He’s here to kill us all Get fucken ready for war! Fucken oath! It’s the rise, it’s the rise of the Redclaw We’ve gotta band together Bring this motherfucker down! It’s the rise, it’s the rise of the Redclaw He’s here to kill us all Get fucken ready for war! Bring it down! It’s the rise, it’s the rise of the Redclaw We’ve gotta band together Bring this motherfucker down! Bring this motherfucker down! Jenny rams the spikes into the crab It vomits acid into the cab Her face is burning She wipes off melted fucken skin Puts it on the dash One last chance Raise the blade And kill the crab But she can’t do it She’s too fucked up
14.
Day by day he grinds away The sweat pissing from his brow Thoughts of home, he holds them dear He revisits them with a dirt covered hand Holding a knock off beer He keeps the fucken lights on The kids keep asking where their dad’s gone But it has to be this way Their dad is Australian Made Day by day she grinds away She’s all alone with three to raise Kids to school, catch the train Works the bar by night Call centre by day The kids always come first A 3am glass of red Quenches the thirst She wouldn’t have it any other way Their mum is Australian Made They are Australian Made

credits

released October 14, 2019

All music written and performed by Dead Kelly.
All music recorded, engineered and mixed by Dead Kelly at The M Room, Sunshine Coast, Queensland.
Mastered by Master Kelly at Crystal Mastering.
Artwork and photography by Dead Kelly, except Roger the Ripped Roo from Alice Springs Kangaroo Sanctuary.
Design and layout by Dead Kelly.

Special thanks to:
Didge Kelly for blastin it out on The Legend of Borry Part 2, and for blowin ya didgepipe on Australian Made.
Nails Kelly for bustin ya lung horn on Sumthin’s Gotta Give.
Bunyip Kelly for ya part of “Buck” on Rise of the Redclaw, and ya blurts of brutality on The Horror at Pump Station Road.
Nutcracker Kelly for the sweet violin on Australian Made.

Butterfly Kelly for being Linda Brown on the Linda Brown artwork, many granddad’s will be punched.
Torque Wrench Kelly for the pic of ya sweaty ballsack noggin on the Australian Made artwork.
Possum Kelly for ya pretty spud on the Australian Made artwork.
Butterfist Kelly for your appearance on Sumthin’s Gotta Give.

Ninja Kelly, Pine Bark Throat Kelly, The Bearded Cube Kelly, Brendo Esky Bar Kelly, Four Ply Kelly, Thylacine Kelly.

Dead Kelly uses and proudly endorses the following trusted brands:
Eclipse Mints, Dolphin Mini Torches, QV Hand Cream, Paper Mate Kilometrico Pens, Stanley Tape Measures, Busse Combat Knives,
Tasco Binoculars, Hovex Mosquito Coils, Quilton, Wacom, Cunt Beer, Suhr Guitars, Warwick Basses, Mesa/Boogie Amplifiers,
Shure Microphones, Linda Brown footwear supplied by Brothel Creepers Australia, AAVIM Technology, Verbatim, Twinnings Peppermint Tea, Bodum Coffee Plungers, Rectinol, Mackie, Husqvarna, Dr Stringfellow Oil & Polish, Youjizz for keeping the mind clear for creativity,
Dunlop KT 26ers (also known as hip breakers), Lungbreach 40s for givin P.C.T. sumfin for nuffin,
Dual Action Gaviscon for easing the suffering of BP kabana lovers across Straya, Dr. Fuckthisshit work related arse rash scrub mung cream, Ansell Kevlar Battle Frangers for when it’s some bad bush or ya have to go around the back way.

Big fucken shout outs to:
Alice Springs Kangaroo Sanctuary, The fucken lightning storm that nearly took out all our fucken hard drives and computers, insects, Yandina Hardware, Beer, Jetts Nambour, KFC, Snowy the mad bastard with the two million stubby holders, Mt Ninderry Platypus Supplies, Shake It Up Music Nambour and all the sick cunts who work there, Yandina Bowls Club, the dinner plate sized hunstman spider that crawled out of The Stanley Knife’s guitar amp and made him squeal like a baby, Nambour Disposals for the balaclavas,
Sarah at the Yandina IGA, RedTube for the memories, bongo vans, the lads at the Yandina bottleo, Mike Hockeye, Lemmy Putdatipin, Tungpunch Mafartbox, Captain Fat Duck & Silly Horse from the S.S. Brown Wind, Space travellers Tanikaze and Mikasa,
Iron Thumbs Kelly: Cheers you solid cunt, I’ll always be there to pull you out of a fucken Telstra pit.

And finally to all our fans - THE DEAD KELLY GANG - for being a bunch of fucken mad sick cunts. Without you, there is no Dead Kelly.
Cheers!

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