It's morning,
I wake to a windy Sunday.
A cool temperature on a sunny day.
The Sun is out,
and I wake my eyes to arise to today.

My feet touch the cold floor,
a strike of chill tickles a nerve.
Mother tells me it's my turn to bath,
I take my time, washing every part.
Wishing I could wash my soul,
cleanse my heart.
Lord knows I'm a sinner,
aren't we all?
To all these sins, I'm no beginner,
aren't we all?

Took a walk to grab a lift to church,
my own car was down.
Can't afford to pay for it with my own worth.
Why, why, why,
do things seem to not go my way?
I try, try, try,
to keep a smile upon my face.

Riding in the back seat,
riding with all the potholes
Every dip the tyre finds,
is a tiny hole inside my soul.
Today I feel a little worthless,
God, tell me my purpose!
I yell to you in my heart,
tell me do you hear this.

I'm living on the surface,
living flat on this green Earth
Getting devoured by locusts,
or really just the serpents.
Lying in tall grass, where the dirt is.

Find my way to the church entrance,
open doors, like the Heavens.
I know there's worth there,
a whole lot of treasures.
But my chest burns in the pressure,
Living a life battling depression.
I started this fight without a weapon.

Found my seat,
amongst all others, those living
I know we all needing some forgiving,
often our hearts are shut while they're  preaching.

I got a headache now,
head a pounding drum, playing loud.
Try to block out every sound,
people greet me, don't notice them all around.

I wasn't out drinking,
so I'm probably over thinking.
About the previous week, out there sinning.
I should do better,
not as perfect, even as a Christian.
I'm just in this building listening out for wisdom.

How will this story end,
the ending hasn't come to came.
Find it's end, my own reverence,
at the end rid my shame.

The end of this Sunday tale,
to face weeks with some better strength.