Cover
original: Masters of War - Bob Dylan (1963)

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build that 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 can 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 run down my drain

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 will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
I stand over your grave till I'm sure that you're death

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