(Bob Dylan)

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 never done nothing
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy

You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
As 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 put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
A Fear to bring children
Into this world
For threatening my babies
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins

Now 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

Copyright 1963; renewed 1991 Special Rider Music