Luyện nghe bài hát War Supply

War. The ultimate. The of friend or foe.
declared by the high and fought out by the low.
Elevated to the of honourable feud.
to capitulation or death. Either him or you.

Cannon dressed up proud to fight or even die.

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

As your spirit slips and Earth drinks from your 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 fucking "why".

At the of the crater in a burning deaths terrain.
You grab your head as if to keep yourself from insane.
Tracers cut a million burning tracks 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 among young
men slain. as you are by church, school, government
and command you'll think more of how your death
will and benefit your land.

In uniform you look all 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 until
mine has torn you in two you'll think fucking "why".