Luyện nghe bài hát How Does It Feel?

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

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

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

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

You never peace or solution,
From the you lusted after war and destruction.
Your blood-soaked reason out other choices,
Your gagged more moderate voices.
So to play your bloody part, so impatient that your war be fought.
Iron with your stone heart so eager that the lesson be taught
That you inflicted, you determines, you created, you -
It was your decision to have those young slaughtered.

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

our history you and your kind
Have stolen the young bodies of the
To be twisted and in filthy war.
What right have you to defile birth?
What right have you to that flesh?
right to spit 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?
Young boys rest now, graves in cold earth.
How does it feel to be the of a thousand death?
eyes, lost now; empty sockets in futile death.

You us of disrespect for the dead,
But it was you who out of national pride.
Just how did you care? What respect did you have
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 those young boys slaughtered.

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

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

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