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 state of feud.
Fought to capitulation or death. him or you.

Cannon fodder dressed up proud to fight or die.

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

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

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

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

In uniform you look all as you march off to war.
From now on damn 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 you in two you'll think just fucking "why".