Masters Of War

By Bob Dylan

Come, you masters of war –
You that build the big guns,
You that build the death planes,
You that build all the bombs,
You that hide behind walls,
You that hide behind desks –
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks –

You that never done nothin’
But build to destroy,
You play with my world
Like it’s your little toy –
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes,
Then you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly.

Like a-Judas of old
You lie and deceive –
A world war can be won
You want me to believe –
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain.

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire –
Then you sit back and watch
While the death count gets higher –
You hide in your mansion
While the young people’s blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud.

You’ve thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled –
Fear to bring children
Into the world –
For threatening my baby,
Unborn and unnamed,
You ain’t worth the blood
That runs in your veins.

How much do I know
To talk out of turn?
You must say that I’m young,
You might say I’m unlearned,
But there’s a-one thing I know
Though I’m younger than you –
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do.

Let me ask you one question:
Is your money that good?
A-will it buy you forgiveness?
Do you think that it could?
I think you will find,
When your death takes its toll,
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul.

And I hope that you die
And your death will come soon –
I’ll follow your casket
On the pale afternoon,
And I’ll watch while you’re lowered
Down to your deathbed,
And I’ll stand over your grave
‘Til I’m sure that you’re dead.