Dripping juice

Dry beard, empty shampoo bottle

That train hits hard against the wall

Making chasms from a small disaster


That train runs dry and crashes into another

Making dripping blood from juicy extracts

The exact time of the end wasn't yet known


The masses want an end and it shall come whole from heaven's mighty grip

The claws of time endlessly stretching from ocean to ocean

And scratching nails into wooden posts

The echo became so clear


It's the end of time, it was the worst of times

And now we have all to look forward to but the future

When will it end?