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