No Drums, No Rhymes, No God

There is a frame on the mantle A print behind the glass A carefully reproduced sketch Of a small grey bird I stare it down for hours I don't even realize I become the picture My wings are made of paper Real life soundtrack There are no drums There are no rhymes We don't talk about the rest Real life soundtrack There are no drums There are no rhymes We don't talk about the rest There is no reason to fear Real or not, it's moot The things that used to matter Just sorta fade away All that's left is questions About the fundamentals I'm not a big believer In long goodbyes Real life soundtrack There are no drums There are no rhymes We don't talk about the rest Real life soundtrack There are no drums There are no rhymes We don't talk about the rest Real life soundtrack There are no drums There are no rhymes We don't talk about the rest Real life soundtrack There are no drums There are no rhymes We don't talk about the rest I log on each morning I log off each night It's a carefully structured routine And I don't want to change Real life soundtrack There are no drums There are no rhymes We don't talk about the rest Real life soundtrack There are no drums There are no rhymes We don't talk about the rest There is a frame on the mantle A print behind the glass A carefully reproduced sketch Of a small grey bird