Luyện nghe bài hát Birth Control

Industry on the bloodpath
Military loves the warbath
Economics shape the battle
All join for the grand rape
Moral intentions make a
Excuse the rotting corpse the trenchcoat
Praise the rotting minds the club tie
That sits in towers up in the sky
Above the clouds, obscure the scarred
manoeuvres, moves for more death
Arms make profit from the head
Build the towers up on the ditch
Betrayal forms the formal
Tinted windows catch the
Such ice cold beauty makes the sink
Five miles away the dead stink
And here the to insult them
The city shines with laughing
The profiteers, the butchers
Stir up the lust for slaughter
The dead who look up to them
Who accept authority the them
Work for the corporation napalm
Workers watch the children
On T.V. as eat their meat pie
With refusal in their eye
To see their own lives in that death
Their state of upon that lost breath
In the official of deathplan
Leaders of men work to man
Stocks and shares the next war
The starts behind the locked door
Propaganda tops the big
Compose an to fine death
The grey men of our nightmares
Dim the colour, foul the air
Their forsake all that they dwell on
Drag the lover from the loved
Patriots is a backstep
A cruel noose a young neck
They teach our children in the
To respect a on a rostrum
To praise the the works of battle
Bring out the ribbon, balloon and
To dig their own graves in the earth
So sad and now to give birth