Murcia lacks mercy towards Bulls

Whose fighting for life the matador
But as for me I am no more
Stabbed and harried broken until
The blood. Ran out of me just at will
Those pink trousers and pink brocade
The vile contempt blade after blade
Thrust and stuck till one has to scream
PAblo Belando this is no dream
This is murder and a baying mob
In Murcia but no mercy rob
Me of all strength me of my power
Leave me to fall on the ring and to cower
My organs alight with each thrust of steel
Nobody caring though how I feel
What is left but to charge him down
Use my horns upon this clown
Gore him once and gore him twice
His lungs his stomach his legs
Suffice
To say his spirit is fast away
Seeing him broken and there to stay
Bleeding receding into the night
As I lay down so as to invite
Death with his sickle to take me out
I am the Bull I know what life’s about
As for that murderer I feel fraught
For he knew the price or well he ought
For me to just let him look the prince
With feminine clobber and fresh black rinse
It wasn’t going to happen not anymore
I just had to get that Matador

And now the mercy goes all his way
They write an article and They say
Or imply the man is the victim here
But I hurt too though it wasn’t clear
I had a life that I loved to lead
all the aggression there was no need
And all the Cuadrilla did cut me down
Made me perform with that pink clown
Prancing about for all he was worth
Until like a doll he hit the earth

I was the victim that nobody saw
Nobody cared for in a war
Not of my making I wanted to be
Out in the paddock running free
Not harming anyone even a flower
Living a life hour after hour
Tasting the buttercups feeling the sun
On my back the attack what had I done
To deserve this battle and all this pain

The only excuse to be born in SPAIN