I heard a song this week that happened to be in my music library on my computer that seems to fit so well with my interest and examination of our societal addiction to aggression and war.
I was surprised by the song as I had no previous knowledge of it even though I am familiar with the works of the artist & author of the lyrics. I was also somewhat amused by the lyrics. That is if one can actually be at all amused by anything related to war. Perhaps it was more amazement than amusement that I felt. This came from the fact that the lyrics could very easily have been written today but were actually written by a 21 year old in 1962. Apparently not much has changed in the last fifty years.
The artist is a young Bob Dylan and the song is entitled: Masters of War. No commentary needed from me as the lyrics say it all.
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 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 the triggers For the others to fire Then you set back and watch When the death counts gets higher You hide in your mansion As 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 Thought 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
I have purposely left out the last stanza for reasons you will understand. These words remind us of the futility and corrupt nation of war and reinforce the importance of the choices that we make that move us towards peace. These choices are so very important for our health and the health and well-being of the world.
Irene McDermott © 2012