For Dick
Scott Matthew
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What have we made
Besides an early grave
We didn't resurrect
on the third day
And this middle age
Well it couldn't save
The wonder of this lot
Still it won't stop
So put me to pasture
Send me to slaughter
harden your heart
To the truth
Put me to pasture
Send me to slaughter
Now that I'm past tense to you
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Could you write it on a page
Will you be that brave
To speak of all things lost
Of things that never stop
And this middle age
Still it couldn't save
We didn't resurrect
On the third day
So put me to pasture
Send me to slaughter
Harden your heart
to the truth
Put me to pasture
Send me to slaughter
Now that I'm past tense to you
It won't stop
It won't stop