A raging bull with no time to lose Pamplona streets, real leather shoes But I've seen it all, and i've said it all A brute smells nice in the spanish air Medallions gleam on a chest of hair And i want it all, even if it kills me
Moustachioed men will lope and leer The head of lust now crowned by fear It's a tired scene, what does it mean? It's a call to order the joy run wild It's gone to seed in each new manchild It's time to change 'cos it's killing you