Come you masters of war, you that build all the guns You that build the death place, you that build all the guns 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 nothing, but to build and destroy You play with my world, like it is your little toy You put a drug in my head, then you hide from my eyes And you turn and run following the fast foolish lie
Like Judas of old, you lie and deceive A world war can be won, you won't need 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 that 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 young people's blood Flows out their bodies and is buried in the mud
You've thrown the worst fear, that could ever be hurled The fear to bring children, into this world For threatenin' 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 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? Oh, 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, in the pale afternoon And I'll watch as you're lowered, into your deathbed And I'll stand on your grave till I'm sure that you're dead
Compositor: Robert Dylan (SESAC)Editor: Special Rider Music (SESAC)Publicado em 2008 (03/Set) e lançado em 2008 (11/Mar)ECAD verificado obra #2466656 e fonograma #1415547 em 11/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM