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
Missiles springing up like
Doomsday subs patrol the
East and are poised to kill
While me and Igor pay the

The war will never stop
Dogs will fight they drop
From to Afghanistan
A menace to the man
But about the little men
Who no recourse given them
It seems unlikely they're the
fingers twitch on willing guns

Little man, my
What makes you so much worse me?
it be we're all the same
Small fry in a larger
I the one to blame
his schemes in bitter flames
Whose soldiers the bourgeousie
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 godless legacy
Has festered long the sea
in the tender youth
They come to know the lie as

So Father hear my cry
For millions doomed to die
You, when the rockets roar
Hurling them through door

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