Luyện nghe bài hát War Supply

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

Cannon fodder dressed up proud to fight or die.

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

As your spirit slips away and Earth drinks your blood.
The irony is that the last thing you'll is - "Oh my God!".

your...
War Supply. War Supply. War Supply.
Not until that mine has torn you in two think just fucking "why".

At the bottom of the in a burning deaths terrain.
You grab your head as if to yourself from goin' insane.
Tracers cut a burning tracks above your head.
Staring at support weapon, wishing that you'd dare.

Just one delicate 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. Indoctrinated as you are by church, school,
and your command you'll more of how your death
will contribute and your land.

In you look all swell as you march off to war.
From now on your damn rubber body-bag will be your 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".