Luyện nghe bài hát War Supply

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

Cannon fodder dressed up proud to or even die.

Carrying cross of Christ, the star of David, or
word of God, the hammer and the sickle or
with your blood. Camouflaged and drilled
you await all hell in confidence, at peace. apart,
one could not tell your from your feet.

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

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

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

Just one delicate press on the trigger and all gone.

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

In you look all swell as you march off to war.
now on your damn rubber body-bag 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 fucking "why".