Masters of war

Содержание


~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
      *

Аккорды

  • F
  • Am
  • G
  • C
  • Am7
  • A

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