New Ways of Music for the Anti-war Movement

Bob Dylan's Masterpiece: "Masters Of War"

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Here are the lyrics for this Bob Dylan song, which tragically, maddeningly, are at least as true today as when he wrote them in 1963:

Masters Of War

Come you masters of war, You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes, You that build the big 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 the triggers For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion As 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 babyUnborn 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
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'll come soon
I will follow your casket In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered Down to your death bed
And I'll stand o'er your grave 'Til I'm sure that you're dead