Luyện nghe bài hát War Supply

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

Cannon dressed up proud to fight or even die.

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

As your spirit slips away and Earth drinks from 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 you in two you'll think just fucking "why".

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

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

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

In uniform you all swell as you march off to war.
From now on your damn body-bag will be your style forever more.

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