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 last
Brooding over what's to
What in God's name have we
springing up like weeds
Doomsday patrol the seas
East and west are poised to
While me and Igor pay the

The war machine never stop
Dogs will until they drop
Poland to Afghanistan
A menace to the man
But what the little men
Who have no recourse given
It seems unlikely the ones
fingers twitch on willing guns

Little man, my
What makes you so much than me?
it be we're all the same
Small fry in a larger
I believe the one to
Plans his schemes in bitter
Whose soldiers crushed the
To form own plutocracy

Stalin, Trotsky, and Lenin
Scorned the hope from heaven
Pompous men with lofty
They gnash teeth with futile screams
But now their godless
Has festered across the sea
Implanted in the tender
come to know the lie as truth

So Holy hear my cry
For millions doomed to die
Without You, the rockets roar
Hurling them through satan's

Late at I sit and pray
Not certain what to say
"Peace on earth, to men" ?
Or "crush them Lord, they're dead"?