Masters of War 

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 

And you turn and run farther 

When the fast bullets fly 

Like 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 peoples' 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 might say that I'm young 

You might say I'm unlearned 

But there's 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? 

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 a pale afternoon 

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