"Masters of War"-Bob Dylan.

I have chosen "Masters Of War" like my protest song, it is by Bob Dylan, made in 1963, in the middle of the 'Cold War'. Bob Dylan explains how he see the war, and how he hate the "masters of the war", the people who control the world like a toy, and he say how he feel in this moment. It is passionate, he really expresses his feelings to us. And all his words are truth, are life. He is direct, and he are so angry, unluckly

I listen this song two times ago, and now again, and for this "entry" I read the lyrics three times. Yes, I need three times to read and understand one song because I can't believe that it is real. Actually we lived a war? Well, I mean the mankind lived, the world, the earth lived a war, lived the consequences of a bombs, or guns, or all another things or weapons that ourselves are created. It is really and only unbelievable. But he says that with a really strong words that no ones had said before. So, this is the reason that personally, I thinks it is a good Protest Song.

"Masters Of War"

Come you masters of war
You that build all the 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
When the death count 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
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'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 over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead.