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• Artiste: Devil Wears Prada (The)
• Titre: Who Speaks Spanish? Colon Quesadilla
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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. 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