The Devil Wears Prada - 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 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

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