Pamplona a very sick place in Spain

A culture of torture
And slaughter and pain
Of course it can only be
PAmplona Spain
RIoja and Sangria
And the hot sun
Let the Bulls out of there
And let’s see them run

They all have been doctored
Their horns shaved away
Which mucks up their balance
The fiesta where they
Have their neck mussels sliced though
Chilli rubbed in their eyes
Then they run through the streets
Isn’t that a surprise

Cheap accommodation
And drunks on the street
Mad wounded bulls
It’s almost complete
Run with them torment them
Frighten them we
Tanked up on sangria
Find obviously

This the fiesta
A joyous acclaim
Tourists get injured
All part of the game
The Bulls are then driven
Hard into the ring
And murdered by arses
In satins mom and bling

Cowards toting swords
Picks and knives all they do
Is stab Bulls
And cut off their ears
YEs it’s true
All of their organs
Injured and weak
PAmplona bull run
Is quite unique

THe Bulls suffer greatly
Such nobility
Comes into question
How can that be
They bravely battle
But the cold feet brigade
Are unsoldierly bastards
Whose spirit is laid

Ill wishing and spiteful
So hurtful they be
Hard boiled and hard bitten
Consequently
The Bulls bleed out slowly
The hatefulness there
It’s baneful behaviour
Drenched with despair

Hopelessness obvious
Despondency
Denounced by the audience
Vulgarity
The bull run the bull ring
The hideous way
Bulls are dispatched
To Hathor each day
So violently awful
The hardness of heart
The remorseless torment
How did it all start
They show no mercy
They intimidate
Threaten with menace
And work through their fate