Luyện nghe bài hát Suite For The Souls Of Our Enemies (part I: Hammer And Sickle)

Late at night I to sit
Alone, for one cigarette
Brooding over what's to
What in name have we done?
Missiles springing up weeds
Doomsday subs the seas
East and west are poised to
While me and pay the bill

The war machine never stop
Dogs will fight until drop
Poland to Afghanistan
A to the common man
But what about the men
Who have no given them
It seems they're the ones
Whose fingers twitch on willing

man, my enemy
What makes you so worse than me?
it be we're all the same
Small fry in a larger
I the one to blame
Plans his in bitter flames
Whose crushed the bourgeousie
To form own plutocracy

Stalin, Trotsky, Marx and
Scorned the blessed from heaven
Pompous men with schemes
They gnash teeth with futile screams
But now godless legacy
Has long across the sea
in the tender youth
They come to the lie as truth

So Holy hear my cry
For untold millions to die
Without You, when the rockets
Hurling them through door

at night I sit and pray
Not always certain to say
"Peace on earth, to men" ?
Or "crush them Lord, better dead"?