Who Speaks Spanish, Colon Quesadilla

This cold floor we know too well
We know too well
We know too well
Hearts poisoned with pride

Black blood dotting our warmth
Ending our contentment
This place is a contorted altar
A contorted altar

I must seek strength from somewhere
For I've reduced myself to nothing

We've been here
One thousand times
Cold idle hands
Floor-welcomed knees
Knees

Hello autumn, I'd die for your companionship
Doubtless I stand, laying my heart into the hands of eternity

Revive me doctrines
Revive me doctrines

Await the day, when all our blood will wash away
Await the day, when all our blood will wash away

The world's balance I'm too familiar with
Selfishness outweighs generosity

Blindness produced
By your own hands affront your face
Lips bleeding with guilt
Frightful little fiends
Frightful little fiends

If these words mean nothing
Than where is the conclusion?
Lyricism aside, Christ is the deduction