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Bob Dylan - Masters of War |
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Come you masters of war |
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You that build all the guns |
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You that build the death planes |
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You that build the big bombs |
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You that hide behind walls |
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You that hide behind desks |
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I just want you to know |
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I can see through your masks |
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You that never done nothin' |
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But build to destroy |
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You play with my world |
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Like it's your little toy |
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You put a gun in my hand |
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And you hide from my eyes |
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And you turn and run farther |
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When the fast bullets fly |
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Like Judas of old |
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You lie and deceive |
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A world war can be won |
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You want me to believe |
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But I see through your eyes |
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And I see through your brain |
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Like I see through the water |
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That runs down my drain |
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You fasten the triggers |
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For the others to fire |
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Then you set back and watch |
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When the death count gets higher |
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You hide in your mansion |
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As young people's blood |
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Flows out of their bodies |
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And is buried in the mud |
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You've thrown the worst fear |
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That can ever be hurled |
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Fear to bring children |
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Into the world |
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For threatening my baby |
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Unborn and unnamed |
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You ain't worth the blood |
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That runs in your veins |
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How much do I know |
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To talk out of turn |
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You might say that I'm young |
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You might say I'm unlearned |
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But there's one thing I know |
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Though I'm younger than you |
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Even Jesus would never |
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Forgive what you do |
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Let me ask you one question |
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Is your money that good |
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Will it buy you forgiveness |
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Do you think that it could |
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I think you will find |
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When your death takes its toll |
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All the money you made |
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Will never buy back your soul |
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And I hope that you die |
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And your death'll come soon |
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I will follow your casket |
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In the pale afternoon |
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And I'll watch while you're lowered |
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Down to your deathbed |
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And I'll stand o'er your grave |
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'Til I'm sure that you're dead |
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