Who Speaks Spanish, Colon Quesadilla

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 Ive reduced myself to nothing weve 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 worlds balance Im 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