Luyện nghe bài hát How Does It Feel?

When you woke 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 ripped up in vain,
Maybe someone hears what you say, but still on your own at night.
You've got to such a noise to understand the silence.
Screaming like a jackass, ears so you can't hear the silence
when it's there - like the wind seen from the window,
Seeing it, but not touched by it.

(We never for war, nor in the innocence of our birth were we aware of it.
We asked for war, nor in the struggle to realisation did we feel 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 IT FEEL?
How does it to be the mother of a thousand death?
Young boys rest now, cold graves in earth.
How it feel to be the mother of a thousand death?
Sunken eyes, lost now; empty sockets in death.

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

You never peace or solution,
From the you lusted after war and destruction.
Your reason ruled out other choices,
Your mockery gagged moderate voices.
So to play your bloody part, so impatient that your war be fought.
Lady with your stone heart so eager that the lesson be taught
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 boys rest now, cold graves in earth.
How it feel to be the mother of a thousand death?
Sunken eyes, lost now; sockets in futile death.

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

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

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

You use those to achieve your ends still,
Using the corpses as a blackmail.
You say "Think of what young men gave"
As you try to us in your living death,
Yet we do think of them, ice cold and
In the snow 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 boys now, cold graves in cold earth.
How does it feel to be the of a thousand death?

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