Damita Haddon's song makes one claim and then keeps widening what it covers: heart, mind, and soul belong to God first, then love and life, then "the songs we sing" and finally "the air we breathe." That progression matters — starting with the interior (heart, mind, soul) and ending with something as basic and involuntary as breathing makes the point that surrender isn't limited to the parts of life a person consciously chooses to hand over. "Give it all over" and "I surrender it all, I turn it all over" use the language of an actual transaction, not a passive feeling, treating surrender as something done rather than something felt. By naming "the songs we sing" specifically, the lyric folds worship itself into the list of things being surrendered — even praise, on this account, was never the singer's own to begin with. The closing lines strip the claim down to its simplest form: "every air that we breathe, Lord, everything that we are, Lord, it all belongs to You," collapsing every earlier category into one sentence, as if the whole song has been circling toward that final, complete admission from the start.