Saturday, November 1, 2008

Come 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
Then you turn and run farther
when the fast bullets fly.

—Bob Dylan, "Masters of War"

Generals gathered in their masses
Just like witches at Black Masses
Evil minds that plot destruction
Sorcerer of death’s construction
In the fields the bodies burning
As the war machine keeps turning
Death and hatred to mankind
Poisoning their brainwashed minds.

Politicians hide themselves away
They only started the war
Why should they go out to fight?
They leave that all to the poor.

Now in darkness world stops turning
Ashes where the bodies burning
No more war pigs of the power
And as God has struck the hour
Day of judgment, God is calling
On their knees the war pigs crawling
Begging mercies for their sins
Satan laughing spreads his wings.

—Black Sabbath, "War Pigs"

Listen to my last words anywhere.
Listen to my last words any world.
Listen all you boards, syndicates and
governments of the earth. And you
powers behind what filth deals con-
summated in what lavatory to take
what is not yours. To sell the ground
from unborn feet forever . . . And
what does my program of total resis-
tance and total austerity offer you? I
offer you nothing. I am not a politician.
These are conditions of total
emergency. And these are my in-
structions for total emergency if
carried out now could avert the total
disaster now on tracks: Peoples of
the earth, you have all been poi-
soned . . . Any minute now fifty
million adolescent gooks will hit the
street with switch blades, bicycle
chains and cobblestones..."

—William S. Burroughs, "Last Words
[of Hassan I Sabbah]" Nova Express

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