Masters Of War

Bob Dylan

(Official lyrics @ www.bobdylan.com)

Broadside sessions, Folkways studios NYC - 24.jan.1963 - verse 5 ommited  
Basement of Gerde's Folk City NYC - 8.feb.1963 - verses 4 & 5 swapped  
Skip Weshner show, WBAI-FM radio, february 1963  
Witmark Studios NYC - march 1963  
Town Hall NYC - 12.apr.1963  
▹Freewheelin' Bob Dylan session 8, Columbia Studio A, NYC - 24.apr.1963, take 3, album version  
Brandeis University, Waltham, MA - 10.may.1963  
Carnegie Hall, NYC - 26.oct.1963 - verses 4,6 & 7 ommited  
    ▵ "Some people say this one, this song i wrote is very naive. ▵
     ▵ But i got to stand here and really not care because i do actually hope that the Masters of War die tomorrow." ▵

Come you masters of war
You that build [the big/all the] guns
You that build the death planes
You that build [all the/the big] bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know 
I can [see/read] thru 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
An' you hide from my eyes
An' you turn an' 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 thru your eyes
An' i see thru your brain
Like i see thru the water
That runs down my drain.

You fasten [all] the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you sit back an' watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
[As/While] the young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
An' is buried in the mud.

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For [a-]threatenin' my baby
Unborn an' unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs [in/down] your veins.

How much do i know
To [talk/speak] out of turn
You might say that i'm young
You might say i'm unlearned
But there's one thing i know
Tho i'm younger than you
That even Jesus [would/will] 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
[That] all the money you made
Will never buy back your soul.

An' i hope that you die
An' your death will come soon
I'll follow your casket
[On a/By the] pale afternoon
An' i'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your death bed
An' i'll stand over your grave
'Til i'm sure that you're dead.