Luyện nghe bài hát Birth Control 'n' Rock 'n' Roll

Industry on the bloodpath,
Military loves the warbath,
Economics shape the landscape,
All join for the grand rape.
Moral make a scapegoat,
Excuse the rotting inside the trenchcoat.
Praise the rotting above the club tie
That sits in up in the blue sky,
Above the clouds, obscure the earth,
Discuss manoeuvres, for more death,
Arms make from the crushed head,
Build the towers up on the head.
Betrayal the formal skyline,
Tinted catch the sunshine,
Such ice cold beauty makes the sink,
Five thousand miles the dead stink.
And the graveyard to insult them,
The shines with laughing tombstones.
The profiteers, the butchers,
Stir up the lust for slaughter.
The living who look up to them,
Who accept authority that them,
Work for the corporation napalm,
Workers the burning children on T.V.
As they eat meat pie
With in their minds
Eye to see own lives in that cold death,
Their state of wealth upon lost breath.
In the offices of deathplan
Leaders of men work to man.
Stocks and shares the next war,
The torture behind the locked door,
tops the big desk.
Compose an to fine death.
The hideous grey men of our
Dim the colour, foul the air,
Their forsake all that they dwell on,
the lover from the loved ones.
Patriots is a backstep,
A cruel noose a young neck.
They our children in the classroom
To a madman on a rostrum,
To praise the dirty of battle,
Bring out the ribbon, and rattle,
To dig their own graves in the earth...
So sad and now to give birth.