Wasted Early Sunday Morning

Youre not the sun, its just a light,
Waking early sunday morning,
Youre not my church,
Its just the bells,
Ringing sweetly through the house,
And in this sense of mine,
Youre not this prayer.
Youre still in reach,
I please myself,
Wasting early sunday morning
Youre not my lead,
Youre just my help,
Talk the edge off sheer denial
And in this state of mine
Youre what I want,
Nothing closeto what I need
I breathe you in x4
Suit yourself, lose myself
Breaking early sunday morning
Youre not the sun
Youre not my church,
I still hold some self-control,
But in this sense of mine
Im still too high, look no hands
I breathe you in x4