ilyĀIMY

By Bob Dylan (we may have changed a couple things…)

Come, you masters of war

Come, you masters of war
You that build the big guns
You that build the death planes
You that build those big bombs
You that build the walls
You that hide behind desks
I want you to know
I see through your masks

You that never done nothin’
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it’s your own little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the first 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 runs down my drain

You fasten all the triggers
For others to fire
Then you sit back and watch
As the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansions
While young peoples’ blood
Flows out of their bodies
And into the mud

Come you masters of war

You’ve thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into this world
For threatenin’ my babies
Unborn and unnamed
You ain’t worth the blood
That flows through your veins

How much could I know
That I will speak out of turn?
You may think that I’m still young
You may think that I’m unlearned
But there’s one thing I know
Though I’m younger than you
Not even Jesus would
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Was the money that good?
Could it buy you forgiveness?
Do you think that it should?
I think that you’ll find
When death takes its toll
All that money
Won’t 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
I’ll watch as you’re lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I’ll stand over your grave
I’ll make sure that you’re dead