Luyện nghe bài hát How Does It Feel?

When you this morning you looked so rocky-eyed,
Blue and white normally, but strange like that in black.
It doesn't get much better, your voice can get just up shooting in vain,
Maybe someone hears what you say, but still on your own at night.
You've got to make such a noise to the silence.
Screaming like a jackass, ringing so you can't hear the silence
Even when it's there - like the wind seen the window,
Seeing it, but not being by it.

(We never asked for war, nor in the of our birth were we aware of it.
We never asked for war, nor in the struggle to realisation did we there was a need for it.
We asked for war, nor in the joyful colours of our childhood were we conscious of its darkness.)

HOW DOES IT
How it feel to be the mother of a thousand death?
Young boys rest now, cold graves in earth.
How does it feel to be the mother of a death?
Sunken eyes, now; empty sockets in futile death.

arrogance has gutted these bodies of life,
Your fooled them that it was worth the sacrifice.
Your lies persuaded to accept the wasted blood,
filthy pride cleansed you of the doubt you should have had.
You smile in the face of the death cause you are so and vain,
Your inhumanity stops you from realising the
you inflicted, you determines, you created, you ordered -
It was your decision to have young boys slaughtered.

You never peace or solution,
the start you lusted after war and destruction.
Your blood-soaked reason ruled out choices,
mockery gagged more moderate voices.
So keen to play your bloody part, so that your war be fought.
Iron Lady with your stone heart so eager that the be taught
you inflicted, you determines, you created, you ordered -
It was your decision to those young boys slaughtered.

How does it to be the mother of a thousand death?
Young boys rest now, cold in cold earth.
How does it to be the mother of a thousand death?
Sunken eyes, lost now; sockets in futile death.

Throughout our history you and your
Have the young bodies of the living
To be twisted and in filthy war.
What right have you to defile those
What right have you to that flesh?
What to spit on hope with the gory madness
That you inflicted, you determines, you created, you -
It was your decision to have young boys slaughtered.

How it feel to be the mother of a thousand death?
Young rest now, cold graves in cold earth.
How does it feel to be the mother of a thousand
Sunken eyes, now; empty sockets in futile death.

You us of disrespect for the dead,
But it was you who slaughtered out of pride.
Just how much did you What respect did you have
As you sent those bodies to their grave?
You buried them rough-handed, they'd given you all,
That once living defiled in the hell
you inflicted, you determines, you created, you ordered -
It was decision to have those young boys slaughtered.

You use deaths to achieve your ends still,
Using the corpses as a blackmail.
You say "Think of those young men gave"
As you try to bind us in living death,
Yet we do of them, ice cold and silence
In the covered moorlands, stopped by the violence
you inflicted, you determines, you created, you ordered -
It was decision to have those young boys slaughtered.

How does it to be the mother of a thousand death?
Young rest now, cold graves in cold earth.
How does it to be the mother of a thousand death?

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - We want your fucking war!
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - We don't want fucking war!
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - We want your fucking war!
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 You can stop your war!