You play with my world…Like it's your little toy…Like Judas of old you lie and deceive…Then you sit back and watch when the death count gets higher…How much do I know to talk out of turn?
But there's one thing I know, that even Jesus would never forgive what you do…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.
(From Masters of War by Bob Dylan)
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