Abrasive to the touch
All in all in all the same thing now
We are gatheres here in nonesuch
Hooks back to the line
And I trip over myself here
I trip over myself
Something is 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 tuning into rainbows
I am sick of turning into rainbows
Writer(s): Tom Larkin, Philip Knight, Jon Toogood, Karl Kippenberger
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