abrasive to the touch   all in all in all the same thing now   we are gathered here in nonesuch   hooks back to the line   and I trip over myself here   and i trip over myself   something's stuck in me here   and I can't get out      some in paint   some in blood   some in makeup   derail me      to everything -   churn, churn, churn   there is a season -   churn, churn, churn   there is a reason   churn, churn, churn   this ain't the time or the place      i am sick of walking into rainbows   i am sick of plugging into rainbows   i am sick of tuning into rainbows   i am sick of turning into rainbows