Luyện nghe bài hát War Supply

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

fodder dressed up proud to fight or even die.

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

As your spirit slips away and Earth drinks from blood.
The irony is that the last thing 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 in a burning deaths terrain.
You grab your head as if to keep yourself goin' insane.
Tracers cut a million tracks above your head.
Staring at your weapon, wishing that you'd dare.

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

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

In you look all swell as you march off to war.
From now on your rubber 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 think just "why".