You're not the sun, It's just a light,
   Waking early sunday morning,
   You're not my church,
   It's just the bells,
   Ringing sweetly through the house,
   And in this sense of mine,
   You're not this prayer.
   You're still in reach,
   I please myself,
   Wasting early sunday morning
   You're not my lead,
   You're just my help,
   Talk the edge off sheer denial
   And in this state of mine
   You're what I want,
   Nothing closeto what I need
   I breathe you in X4
   Suit yourself,lose myself
   Breaking early sunday morning
   You're not the sun
   You're not my church,
   I still hold some self-control,
   But in this sense of mine
   I'm still too high, look no hands
   I breathe you in X4