Luyện nghe bài hát How Does It Feel?

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

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

HOW IT FEEL?
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 thousand
Sunken eyes, lost empty sockets in futile death.

Your arrogance has gutted bodies of life,
Your fooled them that it was worth the sacrifice.
Your lies persuaded to accept the wasted blood,
Your filthy pride cleansed you of the you should have had.
You smile in the face of the death 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,
the start you lusted after war and destruction.
Your blood-soaked reason ruled out choices,
mockery gagged more moderate voices.
So keen to play bloody part, so impatient that your war be fought.
Iron Lady with your heart so eager that the lesson be taught
you inflicted, you determines, you created, you ordered -
It was your decision to have those young slaughtered.

How does it feel to be the of a thousand death?
Young boys rest now, cold in cold earth.
How does it feel to be the of a thousand death?
Sunken eyes, lost now; empty sockets in 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 defile birth?
What right have you to that flesh?
What right to on hope with the gory madness
you inflicted, you determines, you created, you ordered -
It was your decision to those young boys slaughtered.

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

You us of disrespect 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 rough-handed, they'd given you their all,
That once living defiled in the hell
you inflicted, you determines, you created, you ordered -
It was your decision to have young boys slaughtered.

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

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

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