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.
Bob DylanBent out of shape from society's pliers, cares not to come up any higher, but rather get you down in the hole that he's in.
Bob DylanI thought that he was righteous, but he's vain. Oh, somethings a telling me I wear the ball and chain.
Bob Dylan