Who Speaks Spanish, Colon Quesadilla-The Devil Wears Prada

This cold floor we know too well. hearts poisoned with pride. Black blood dotting our warmth. Ending our contentment. This place is a contorted altar. I must seek strength from somwhere, For I＇ve reduced myself to nothing. we＇ve been here one thousand times. Cold idle hands, floor-welcomed knees. Hello autumn, I need not your companionship. Doubtless I stand; laying my heart into the hands of eternity. Revive me doctines! Await the day, when all our blood will wash away. The world＇s balance I＇m too familiar with; Selfishness outweighs genorosity Blindness produced by your own hands afront your face. Lips bleeding with guilt. Frightful little fiends. If these words mean nothing; than where is the conclusion? Lyricism aside, Christ is the deduction