Marc And The Mambas - The Bulls lyrics

On Sundays the bulls get so bored

When they are asked to show off for us

There is the sun, the sand, and the arena

There are the bulls ready to bleed for us

It's the time when grocery
Clerks become Don Juan

It's the time when all ugly
Girls turn into swans

Who can say of what he's found

That bull who turns and paws the ground

And suddenly he sees himself all nude

Who can say of what he dreams

That bull who hears the silent screams

From the open mouths of multitudes

On Sundays the bulls get so bored

When they are asked to suffer for us

There are the picadors and the mobs revenge

There are the toreros, and the
Mob kneels for us, olé!

It's the time when grocery
Clerks become García Lorca

And the girls put roses in
Their teeth like Carmen

On Sundays the bulls get so bored

When they are asked to drop dead for us

The sword will plunge down and
The mob will drool

The blood will pour down and turn
The sand to mud olé!

The moment of triumph when
Grocery clerks become Nero

The moment of triumph when the
Girls scream and shout

The name of their hero, aaahh

And when finally they fell

Did not the bulls dream of a hell

Where men and worn-out matadors still burn

Or perhaps with their last breaths

Would not they pardon us their deaths

Knowing what we did at
Carthage Waterloo -Verdun

Stalingrad -Iwo Jima -Hiroshima -Saigon!