A slaughtered BULL

An assemblage of knaves
Of the wicked intent
Vigour and drive
And from Heaven was sent
Its muscle and might
A sovereign supreme
A force to contend with
Of the crop its the cream

Bullied and tortured
Made to feel weak
Prepared to be frightened
And far off its peak
Shaky and wonky
Chilli in its eyes
Tears mixed with blood
That Spain oft denies

And in with a rush
From the tunnels so dark
Comes the great tortured soul
Wanting to mark
His way into Heaven
And there is a roar
From the wicked assemblage
Like never before

The destroyers and levellers
The cuadrilla they
With their lances and spears
And swords an array
Of evil intent
Of ugliness too
Horseback and standing
What They are going to do

Is back up the violence
The fury the pain
The frenzy
Of stabbing again and again
More roars from the crowd
Who are baying for blood
Picnics and ice cream
Expecting a flood

Of mucus and sputum
Of a crimson stream
Wanting a rumpus
Hearing the scream
Neanderthal men
In their satins so lush
Inhumanity rages
Firebrands that rush
Stabbing the Bull
With lances so deep
With swords and with knives
Watch the blood surface and seep

Dancing encircling
Each Dizzy refrain
The impulse to thrust
Again and again
The snort, the blood fountain
The hot steamy breath
The gob and the skin
Its nearer to death

And The matador
Sinks to his knees in the ring
His hands in the air
His fervour does bring
A prayer for the bull
Respect supposedly
Presenting his love
For a victim who be
On his last legs
His heart weakening fast
The sights and the sounds
Are lowering fast
So many nutters
Around us today
These are the psychopaths
All in full sway
Of unsound mind
Thats very clear
Up goes the crowd
A bloody great cheer

As the Bull just falls foward
Blood everywhere
Its eyes Are still open
I Know its unfair
The Spanish are far gone
As wicked as hell
So many contusions
They offer and sell
Brute force and ignorance
Pitiless vile
Murder most foul
Off everyones dial