Behdad Esfahbod's daily notes on GNOME, Pango, Fedora, Persian Computing, Bob Dylan, and Dan Bern!

My Photo
Location: Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Ask Google.

Contact info
Hacker Emblem Become a Friend of GNOME I Power Blogger
follow me on Twitter
July 2003
August 2003
October 2003
November 2003
December 2003
March 2004
April 2004
May 2004
July 2004
August 2004
September 2004
November 2004
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
November 2009
December 2009
March 2010
April 2010
May 2010
June 2010
July 2010
October 2010
November 2010
April 2011
May 2011
August 2011
September 2011
October 2011
November 2011
November 2012
June 2013
January 2014
May 2015
Current Posts
McEs, A Hacker Life
Friday, September 16, 2005
 Masters of War

[At the risk of being contacted by Roozbeh for copyright violation, I'm pasting here the lyrics of one of the two songs that I've been listening to like crazy recently.]
Lyrics: Bob Dylan

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

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 the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As 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
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening 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'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand o'er your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead

Copyright © 1963; renewed 1991 Special Rider Music

Other than that, the problems in the Persian GNOME translation team have finally spilled into gnome-i18n, which means I have to take one day off this weekend to write down my side of the story, that in fact goes back to as early as 2002.

Comments: Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Archive
<< Home