Текст песни Paarse Avond - The Twirling End

All my tears turned into rubbles
Dabbling in a cloud of bubbles
Mixed with greasy cubes of sorrow
Stuck in crannies of the hollow.

Stitch your neck, spit up your slime
Go with me to that cursed clime.

There you'll see the round maidens
With their white lips closed by waders.
There you'll see the concepts flying
Over ramshackle empires,
Wine of fleas and drunk fat bees
Sleeping under thorny trees.
Fractal suns will make you see
What you were and what shall be.

Will you come with me, my friend?
Let's float in the twirling End!