First Line:
Come you masters of war
Artist & Tune
Tune:
Nottamun Town
Composed by:
Version by Bob Dylan
Performed by:
Version by Judy Collins
Performed by:
Version by Odetta
Performed by:
Version by The Staples Singers
Performed by:
Version by Pearl Jam
Performed by:
Version by Eddie Vedder
Performed by:
Version by Ed Sheeran
Performed by:
Version by Chris Thile
Performed by:
Version by Connie Gordon
Performed by:
Version by Joan Osborne
Performed by:
Version by Leon Russell
Performed by:
Version by Eric Bibb
Performed by:
About the Song
This song was written in 1962-63 and first recorded on Dylan's "Freewheelin' Bob Dylan" LP in spring 1963.The melody is adapted from the traditional English ballad "Nottamun Town". Because the arrangement especially follows Jean Ritchie's adaptation of the song she claimed that she should have been given a partial authorship credit.
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
Am - - - (2x) //: Am - G - / Am - - - :// Am Dm Em Am - - -
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 & 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 sit back & watch
When the death count gets higher
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 & 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
That 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 will come soon
I'll follow your casket
By the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead
words & music by Bob Dylan
(c) 1963 Warner Bros. Music, renewed by Special Ryder Music. All rights reserved.
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
Am - - - (2x) //: Am - G - / Am - - - :// Am Dm Em Am - - -
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 & 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 sit back & watch
When the death count gets higher
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 & 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
That 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 will come soon
I'll follow your casket
By the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead
words & music by Bob Dylan
(c) 1963 Warner Bros. Music, renewed by Special Ryder Music. All rights reserved.