Luyện nghe bài hát War Supply

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

Cannon fodder up proud 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 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 drinks from blood.
The irony is that the thing you'll think is - "Oh my God!".

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

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

Just one delicate 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 seek countless young
men slain. Indoctrinated as you are by church, school,
and command you'll think more of how your death
will contribute and benefit land.

In uniform you look all swell as you 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 think just fucking "why".