Luyện nghe bài hát War Supply

War. The ultimate. The of friend or foe.
Always declared by the and fought out by the low.
Elevated to the state of feud.
to capitulation or death. Either him or you.

Cannon fodder dressed up to fight or even die.

cross of Christ, the star of David, Swastika or
word of God, the hammer and the or banner
splattered with blood. Camouflaged and drilled
you all hell in confidence, at peace. Blown apart,
one could not your brains from your feet.

As your spirit slips away and drinks from your blood.
The irony is that the last thing you'll is - "Oh my God!".

your...
War Supply. War Supply. War Supply.
Not until that mine has torn you in two you'll just fucking "why".

At the of the crater in a burning deaths terrain.
You your head as if to keep yourself from goin' insane.
Tracers cut a million burning above your head.
Staring at your weapon, wishing that you'd dare.

Just one press on the trigger and it's all gone.

Ask yourself if your one is worth spending this way.
Tell me where's all glory you among countless young
men slain. Indoctrinated as you are by church, school,
and your command you'll think of how your death
will contribute and your land.

In uniform you look all as you march off to war.
From now on your damn rubber will be your style forever more.

War Supply. War Supply. War Supply. War Supply.
War Supply. War Supply. War Supply. Not until
mine has torn you in two you'll think just "why".