Not Since Breakfast

The song follows a worker through an ordinary, grinding day — hitting snooze forty times, clocking in to pay dues, staying polite on the phone while the mind drifts elsewhere, then coming home to a second shift of chores: sorting laundry, patching a vacuum hose, scrubbing the toilet, mowing, three sets of eight on the chest. Every mundane detail builds toward a single payoff: shutting the door, putting on a praise CD, taking the phone off the hook, turning off the light, and lying back to clear the mind. That quiet room becomes the setting for an intimate address — "Hey God, it's me" — and the chorus frames worship as a scheduled appointment the singer has been anticipating all day, a private meeting where heart, soul, and mind are offered and everything else is left behind. The humor of the verses keeps the devotion from feeling precious; the repetition of the chorus and the echoing "leave it all behind" turns a small domestic ritual into something like a discipline, a deliberate carving out of solitude with God in the middle of an unremarkable life.