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 of honourable feud.
to capitulation or death. Either him or you.

Cannon dressed up proud to fight or even die.

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

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

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

Ask yourself if one life is worth spending this way.
Tell me where's all glory you seek countless young
men slain. as you are by church, school, government
and your command you'll more of how your death
will contribute and benefit 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 that
has torn you in two you'll think just fucking "why".