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Bob Dylan - Masters Of War
~From: jgladman@uoguelph.ca (Julie R Gladman)
Corrected lyrics: Benjamin L. Weiss
This is my approximation of how this song is played:
Masters of War -- Bob Dylan
Am Am7 Am
Am Am Am7 Am
Come you masters of war
Am Am Am7 Am
You that build the big guns
Am Am Am7 Am
You that build the death planes
Am Am Am7 Am
You that build all the bombs
Am Am Am7 Am
You that hide behind walls
Am Am Am7 Am
You that hide behind desks
Am C G F Am Am7 Am
I just want you to know I can see through your masks
And the song just continues in that vein for the rest of the
Verses:
You that never have done nothin' but build to destroy
You play with my world like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand then you hide from my eyes
Then you turn and run farther when the fast bullets fly
Like Judas of old you lie and deceive
A world war can't be won, and 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 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 mansions while the young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies and gets 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 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?
I think you will find when your death takes its toll
All the money you made won't ever buy back your soul
And I hope that you die and your death will come soon
I'll follow your casket through the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered into your death bed
Then I'll stand over your grave till I'm sure that you're
Dead
*Corrections to lyrics or chords would be most welcome.*
--
*Do you ever get the feeling that the story's too damn real
And*
*in the present tense? Or that everybody's on the stage
And it*
*seems like you're the only person sitting in the
Audience?*
* -Ian Anderson
*
* Something to think about,
*
* Julie Gladman jgladman@uoguelph.ca
*
Corrected lyrics: Benjamin L. Weiss
This is my approximation of how this song is played:
Masters of War -- Bob Dylan
Am Am7 Am
Am Am Am7 Am
Come you masters of war
Am Am Am7 Am
You that build the big guns
Am Am Am7 Am
You that build the death planes
Am Am Am7 Am
You that build all the bombs
Am Am Am7 Am
You that hide behind walls
Am Am Am7 Am
You that hide behind desks
Am C G F Am Am7 Am
I just want you to know I can see through your masks
And the song just continues in that vein for the rest of the
Verses:
You that never have done nothin' but build to destroy
You play with my world like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand then you hide from my eyes
Then you turn and run farther when the fast bullets fly
Like Judas of old you lie and deceive
A world war can't be won, and 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 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 mansions while the young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies and gets 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 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?
I think you will find when your death takes its toll
All the money you made won't ever buy back your soul
And I hope that you die and your death will come soon
I'll follow your casket through the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered into your death bed
Then I'll stand over your grave till I'm sure that you're
Dead
*Corrections to lyrics or chords would be most welcome.*
--
*Do you ever get the feeling that the story's too damn real
And*
*in the present tense? Or that everybody's on the stage
And it*
*seems like you're the only person sitting in the
Audience?*
* -Ian Anderson
*
* Something to think about,
*
* Julie Gladman jgladman@uoguelph.ca
*