Its hard to not be racist
When these heinous acts take place
Festivals they call them
I call them a disgrace
Iniquitous and malevolent
Its totally unfair
Its inhumane and ghastly
These men are unaware
How dirty and how vile they are
These bulls do not deserve
This ugly kind of disrespect
For me it does unnerve
My actual inner being
It sickens me to see
Such woeful ugly murders
Right in front of me
In front of little children
For the whole town comes to see
Corruption with out self remorse
Shows their psychopathic strain
They are vulgar misbehaviours
Dishing out the pain
To the innocent who have no recourse
Than to suffer and to die
And be trodden down and cut to ribbons
So blatantly and why?
For fun for their festivities
Their sacrificial urge
Its tradition its their culture
I would like to have a purge
Of all these darkly soldiers
The police too with their knives
Ready to cut steaks off the Bull
Having watched the loss of lives
Its torture in plain sight
Take the family come and see
A blood lust not affecting
Their feelings actually
The people stuffed with sangria
And god knows what else they
Are in the sun the work is done
And the innocent must pay
Imagine being one of those Bulls
Your life up to this day
Has seen a bit of freedom
And for it you now must pay
Be totally humiliated
In front of the whole town
And among a hoard of tourists
Who have come to take you down
Blow darts at you
as if you were
A target
Seventy or so darts
And what you do
Is stand their every dart
Cuts through a muscle
And all of them
Are clearly aimed at you
Streaks of piss
that really need their wake up call
Hatred and pure rancour
in their soul
A rabble and their babble
insignificant
A state of enmity
is their control
Disaffected belligerent
and aggressive
They stand aloof
of obligingness and affability
Disfavour and disaffection
takes them over
We close our eyes
For we do not want to see
Someone fires a rifle shot
right between our eyes
The lights go out forever
no one tells you lies
Like the people of Coria
with their festivals of sin
Murdering two of us each day
Let their hatred begin
Then watch the uncultured lay about’s
Serfs and villein’s who
purport to have such nobleness
A pedigree or two
Who leap frog over us
When we are suffering all the pain
All the humiliation
All the dogged strain
Then shot to death we see them
In front of us taking aim
Imagine that a firing squad
All part of their game
To come at our still warm bodies
And carve us on the street
Those thoughts are so offensive
Just to end up as their meat
To squabble and to fight over
They tread on us and we
Are taken apart in great chunks
That is where we be
On the great mans table
The police and all around
Fighting over bits of us
Bloodied on the ground
Human beings festivals
Culture and the rest
Are so down in the gutter
As to truly just detest
Their savagery, their sadism
Brutality runs wild
These are common people
Who somehow get all riled
Up and want to murder
Bulls who did no wrong
They are spiteful and ignorant monsters
And have been all along
To imagine we build their bodies
Chewed up to become
Part of them is awful
But they become more numb
More vile more from the gutter
Where monstrosities evolve
For them there is no atonement
Their case they cannot solve
HATHOR is a god who now protects
Our waking souls
touches our hearts as we pass
Countermands controls
And all will see that each if them
Meets their karmic end
Whether its cancer or suicide
Or sudden death they spend
Their ending in such agony
But they will never know
Its pay back time for all the bulls
They dispatched long ago.
Spain and its direction
Its futility is there
Those that run the Bulls and fight the bulls
Draw in despair
They are merciless and unpitying
As callously they apply
Methods in which to torture us
And hurt us till we die
A thankless incarnation
Unmindful and to feel
Put upon by rancour
Just to have a meal
Is unthankfulness and arrogance
Oblivion for me
One of the bulls they murdered
That I never will be free