Luyện nghe bài hát War Supply

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

Cannon fodder dressed up proud to fight or die.

Carrying of Christ, the star of David, Swastika or
of God, the hammer and the sickle or banner
splattered with your blood. Camouflaged and
you await all in confidence, at peace. Blown apart,
one could not tell your brains your feet.

As your spirit slips away and Earth from your blood.
The is that the last 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 just fucking "why".

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

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

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

In uniform you look all as you march off to war.
From now on your damn rubber body-bag will be 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 think just fucking "why".