Masters Of War Bob Dylan

Come, you masters of war Like Judas of old You’ve thrown the worst fear Let me ask you one question
You that build the big guns You lie and deceive That can ever be hurled Is your money that good?
You that build the death planes A world war can be won Fear to bring children Will it buy you forgiveness?
You that build all the bombs You want me to believe Into the world Do you think that it could?

You that hide behind walls But I see through your eyes For threatenin’ my baby I think you will find
You that hide behind desks And I see through your brain Unborn and unnamed When your death takes its toll
I just want you to know Like I see through the water You ain’t worth the blood All the money you made
I can see through your masks That runs down my drain That runs in your veins Will never buy back your soul

You that never done nothin’ You fasten all the triggers How much do I know And I hope that you die
But build to destroy For the others to fire To talk out of turn? And your death will come soon
You play with my world Then you sit back and watch You might say that I’m young I’ll follow your casket
Like it’s your little toy While the death count gets higher You might say I’m unlearned On a pale afternoon

You put a gun in my hand You hide in your mansion But there’s one thing I know I’ll watch while you’re lowered
And you hide from my eyes While the young peoples’ blood Though I’m younger than you Down to your deathbed
And you turn and run farther Flows out of their bodies That even Jesus would never And I’ll stand over your grave
When the fast bullets fly And is buried in the mud Forgive what you do ‘Til I’m sure that you’re dead

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Untitled-1 1 7/28/10 8:24:05 PM