Luyện nghe bài hát War Supply

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

fodder dressed up proud to fight or even die.

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

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

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

Ask yourself if your one life is worth this way.
Tell me where's all you seek among countless young
men slain. Indoctrinated as you are by church, school,
and your 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 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 torn you in two you'll just fucking "why".