Lament to the Sevillian Matador

In a Spanish Bullfight
Outside of old Seville
We went to see the pageantry
The spectacle the thrill
We paid up in the turnstiles
And quickly got a seat
Grabbed the ice cream man
For something cool to eat
The crowd waited eagerly
And started to chant and roar
JUAN DEL ORO, JUAN DEL ORA
The Sevillian matador.

Like a Gladiator
Dressed for opera
He listened to the roar
Waited for the bull of black
To walk from behind the door
The bull charged out confused
He too listened to the crowd roar
As he eyed the rustling cape
Of the Sevillian Matador.

Two horsemen then arrived
With a dagger and a lance
Stabbing sinew in his neck
So he didn’t have a chance
With thirst he tore the dusty ground
Snorted and cried in pain
And swore to “Juan Del Oro”
He’d never fight again
The daggers swung like pendulums
As his blood dripped on the floor
As he cast a tempered look upon
The Sevillian Matador.

The red cape waved like a baton
To the roar around the ring
And the bull raced like a thunderbolt
At the seduction of it’s swing
The daggers tickled at his bone
When his head dropped down to low
And another vein burst it’s banks
Scarlets trickles scarlet flows
His body drained of energy
His eyes now red and sore
He studied for the final charge
At the Sevillian matador.

He pierced him in his heart
Prodded him on the floor
Whipped him like some dusty mat
You beat outside the door
The bones they cracked
And could be heard
As loud as the silenced ground
As people hung there face in shame
And whispered not a sound
They wondered why they had came
and said they’d come no more
To see the black “EL GORO” bull
And the SEVILLIAN MATADOR.