Luyện nghe bài hát How Does It Feel?

When you woke this morning you so rocky-eyed,
Blue and white normally, but strange ringed that in black.
It doesn't get better, your voice can get just ripped up shooting in vain,
Maybe hears what you say, but you're still on your own at night.
You've got to make such a to understand the silence.
Screaming like a jackass, ringing ears so you hear the silence
Even when it's - like the wind seen from the window,
Seeing it, but not touched 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 in cold 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 deceit fooled that it was worth the sacrifice.
Your persuaded people to accept the wasted blood,
filthy pride cleansed you of the doubt you should have had.
You in the face of the death cause you are so proud and vain,
Your stops you from realising the pain
you inflicted, you determines, you created, you ordered -
It was decision to have those young boys slaughtered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

How does it feel to be the mother of a thousand
Young boys now, cold graves in cold earth.
How does it feel to be the mother of a 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 don't your fucking war!
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 You can your fucking war!