arts / folk / my songs / songs / songwriting

Ye Mistress of War


Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.
 (New words to a song by Bob Dylan)

Tune: Nottamun Town

Farewell mistress of war
You deployed all the guns

You deployed the death planes
You deployed battleships
While you hid behind walls
And you hid behind desks
I just want you to know I still see through your masks.

You that never done nothin’
But to build to destroy

You played with my land
Like your own little toy
Sent the gunthugs in blue
Into village and town
All the works of our hands
Your people pulled down.

Like Judas of old
You lied and deceived

Said the prayer of St Francis
Though you never believed
You sowed hatred for love
Spread doubt in our minds
Turned hope to despair
– We can see through your kind.

 You loaded the weapons
For the others to fire
Then you sat back and watched
As the death count got higher
You hid in your mansion
As young people’s blood
Flowed out of their bodies
In the battlefield mud.

You spread the worst fear
Through the young and the old

Millions found there’s no work
They were thrown on the dole
Every mum with her baby
Was thrown on the street
And you trod on their dreams
With your uncaring feet.

People said you were iron
You were only the tool

Of the bankers and wankers
The real ones who rule
You danced like a puppet
Though your strings were unseen
When the Yankees invaded

You know what I mean

Let me ask you one question
Was your money that good

Can it buy you forgiveness
Did you think that it could
But now you have found
Now that death’s took its toll
All the money you made
Cannot save your black soul

Now you stand unprotected
At the last Judgement Seat

No lies can defend you
Accused by the meek.
Accused by the broken
Accused by the dead
All the sins of your life
Must weigh down your head

And now that you’re dead
And the bankers and crooks

Have followed your casket
We all know how it looks
But we watch while you’re lowered
Down to your death bed
And we dance on your grave
Now we’re sure that you’re dead.

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