Sentimental Man

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

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

even as I flake on every deal

I ever made with myself, before the ink could dry

Well I should keep that one inside...

How do you know I'm not a sentimental man?

is it really so hard to catch that vibe? I guess it is

I couldn't tell you why, I think it's plain to see

certain disaster, and I really couldn't say how the fuck I could let this get

so far

How do you know that I'm not your biggest fan?

Can you really make that case so clear? I think you can't

I don't know why you try, I guess it's all a game

I'm under the covers and I'm telling you good night

'cos I plan to have some real fine dreams