"We have to start winning wars again"-donald trump

Masters of War by Bob Dylan

Damn 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 sit back and watch, while 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

Afraid to bring children, into the world

For threatenin’ 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 will come soon

I’ll follow your casket, on a 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