Oorlogsgeleerden, genies van 't kanon
Ge bouwt de torpedo's en waterstofbom.
Ge schuilt achter muren en achter papier
Maar ik ken al uw kuren, uw stalen manier.
G' hebt nooit nie gewerkt dan in het bedrijf
Dat mensen vernietigt en harten verstijft.
Ge geeft mij uw wapen, maar ge mijdt mijnen blik
En fluiten er kogels, dan schijt ge van schrik.
Ge bouwt aan 't verderf van leven en land
Ge steekt met uw streken de wereld in brand.
En al kan 't u nie schelen, dat ik u verwens
Toch zijde ne vloek in de buurt van ne mens.
Ge zaait uwe waanzin, die koud is en wreed
Ge foltert m'n kinderen, ge lacht met hun leed.
En ik weet dat de schepper het denkbeeld verfoeit
Dat er menselijk bloed door uw aderen vloeit.
Crepeer voor mijn part en liefst nog vandaag
En ik volg uw kist liever rap dan te traag
En ik zal u zien zakken in de vredige grond
En ik schrijf op uw graven: 'Gevaarlijken hond'!
Zie bij 'verder lezen' voor de Dylantekst
Masters of War - Bob Dylan
Come you masters of war
You that build the big guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through 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
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 runs down my drain
You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
While the death count gets higher
Then you hide in your mansion
While the young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is 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
Will never buy back your soul
And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand o'er your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead