Masters of War
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.
BOB DYLAN. The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan. Nova York: Columbia Records, 1963 (fragmento).
A alternativa C refere-se ao sistema que produz armar e, em razão dos seus interesses, que são evidentemente econômicos, as coloca em posse dos soldados, podemos perceber na passagem: “you put a gun in my hand”.