| Arena filled with screaming crowd
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| In ecstasy they cry
|
| Paid money for a pleasant show
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| Want to see him die
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| The matador in shining dress
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| Intent to prove his courage
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| Drove by rejoicing mass
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| It boils his pulsing blood
|
| Exhibition bouts under the star of law
|
| Men make pleasure in hanging gore
|
| Cruelty to animals crime that won’t get punished
|
| Creatures treated as rubbish
|
| With direct stabs into living flesh
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| To agonise the bull
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| No way out the fronts are clear
|
| Take offensive jab it though
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| On and on ride to the fall
|
| In danger of his life
|
| Wounded find no place to hide
|
| Death will soon arrive
|
| Exhibition bouts under the star of law
|
| Men make pleasure in hanging gore
|
| Cruelty to animals crime that won’t get punished
|
| Creatures treated as rubbish
|
| Blood soaks and stains the parched ground
|
| The slaughter to inaugurate
|
| Duel between man and beast
|
| Their eyes are filled with hate… hate… hate
|
| He restrained fierce at the eleventh hour
|
| Till death blows save his soul
|
| No right to exist lamentation is law
|
| His flesh served up a grub |