Blue Church Lights

Ah, ah. Ah, ah. Aah,

ahh. Ooh, ooh, ooh. Ah,

ah. Lip glossed, cherry sundae dress. Halo slightly off, you can guess.

Sight our saints in the second row. Counting sins they'll never know.

Whispered rumors in the bathroom line. Say we crossed some holy sign. Hand on my

lower back, soft and slight. You just laugh when they ask why.

They pray we're wrong but we feel right. Sweat on our palms in the

blue church lights. Kissing in the car where the choir can't find. Their rules fade