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Put Out To Pasture
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New song on Missing Score's Upcoming EP
If you like music, beards, and dry humping, you will enjoy Missing Score! Let our sounds whisper sweet nothings into your ears. . . Listening will make yo
Missing Score, a band you will never forget(but probably will . . .) We are an indie band from the great city of Chicago, five young guys on a mission to bring back the rock to this town, we miss it so . . . Visit us at www.missingscore.net! And don't forget to come and tell us what you think on our message board! There's a hug in it for ya!
Song Info
Genre
Alternative • Indie
Charts
Peak #898
Peak in subgenre #171
Author
Missing Score
Uploaded
March 23, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.2 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
He lost ten years. Did you see the look on the side of his face? He lost five years. Did you read the book that was opened to fate? He lost for years. Did you feel what shook him black and then blue? Lost forever. It ate a part of me; it’ll steal from you, too. We have these thoughts when we’re five years old That we’ll be doctors or we’ll rule the world. But we reach a time when we hate everything, Cry to our mommies, and don’t take the blame. We lost ten years. We waited all these years for another stud. We lost five years. When he finally came, he was the One. We lost for years. Now we’re just waiting to die, to die, to die— Out to pasture— It’s the only way, man, follow the signs. We had ideas, felt mortality Squeeze our knowing neck, feed our dying dreams. I’m no dictator; I’m no doctor. We’re losing our legs, put out to pasture. We eat when we like. We shit when we like. We might die tonight. Spell it out so green. Spell it out— We watch our friends die. We see our friends die. Why not die tonight? Spell it out so green. Spell it out— We will take our meds. We will break our legs. We can’t be patient. Put a gun to our heads. Put a gun— Come on, put us out of our misery.
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