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