Luyện nghe bài hát War Supply

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

Cannon fodder dressed up to fight or even die.

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

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

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

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

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