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