Sentimental Man The Dismemberment Plan

There is no heaven and there is no hell
No limbo in between
I think it's all a lie
Just a white light out to velvet black
And back to neutral gray
That's all when we die

There is no fate that divides our day
No spirits hard at work
No unseen hand at play
People talk like it's a given thing
I dunno what they mean
Nor, I suspect, do they

Well, I guess that's ok

But how do you know I'm not a sentimental man?
Is it really so hard to see these things? I guess it is
I couldn't tell you why, I think it's right there
Nobody's perfect, but I'm doing what I can
And you best believe I'll keep it real

I'm an old testament type of guy
I like my coffee black
And my parole denied, yeah
Even as I flake on every deal
I ever made with myself
Before the ink could dry