On behalf of bulls
Who got their own back
Listen I
am one who wants my point of view
Before I reach The sky
The malevolence that Spain does show
Towards us do you know
And the cruelty from the Matadors that
Really seems to grow
For me there is no
Forgiveness or reconciliation anymore
They treat us ever so badly
It’s as if we are at war
They surely are our nemesis pitiless and poor
We won’t sink to their level
No! not any more
We won’t exact the retribution
That some might think is due
Despite their ruthless callousness
Whatever we can do
Doesn’t really hack it
For us though sometimes we
Run amok and gore a few
It may help to free
That hatred that we have for them
And truthfully what they do
How they con us, how they treat us
For our dreams, won’t come true
Before the fights we are given
A clean stable to live
Fed on some good food it’s true
Before it all they give
But as soon as we are destined
For the arena, we
Are tortured as you witness
and killed so brutally
What really honestly gets to us
Is the two faced ways they are
Back at the farm we are treated
And you’d imagine we were the star
And then of course it changes
The denunciation comes
They become abusive
And all of that,it numbs
Our being and our sensitivity
How do you act this way
Torture us be unfair to us
And really make us pay
That’s when it hurts
That’s when it reaches and cuts us to the core
That they abuse us in front of the crowds
And denounce us evermore
So to get a chance perhaps just one
To toss a few around
To stick the horn into their guts
And hopeful to drown
Their arrogance completely
Burst an intestine
Or even stick a testicle
Or burst their fucking spleen
It’s not revenge it’s a just reward
For the culture they display
It’s a kind of karmic gift of god
Payment right away
Give them back some agony
And discomfort sometimes we
Get a kick from that it’s true
And we do that I agree
It’s because they are so ignorant
Around us, and they try
To cut the odds,and give them power
They just want us to die
That’s really very evil
We would never have done them wrong
We always have respected our place
Now all along
Some of us get lucky and can leap into the crowd
Gore a few fat bastards you should hear them shout out loud
They were al right watching us,getting speared
And stabbed and kicked and more
But give them back a little
And leave them on the floor
I suppose it is a pleasure
Seeing them bleeding too
Thank you Dear Portia
We understand that you
Mentioned this upon a thread
On Facebook just today
You thought of us now isn’t that kind
And made the point, to say
Thank you, it is to be hoped
These bloody freaks of hell
These so called professional arse holes
Will one day have a spell
In Hell after a goring
And suffer as we do
And this whole so called fighting
Will be stopped in front of you
The public those who pay to see us
torture us painfully
Watch them cut off our ears and tails we
Watch them avidly
This is now what happens
Their aversion for us is rife
And with all this downward movement
Why give yet more strife
It just does not bear thinking
About the need to sigh
To leave us in the midst of sin
Coughing to the sky
A wretched thrust gone through our lungs
Our sputum and our throat
Gaping sucking in the air
Just like rex has wrote
So many times he hits the spot
He says it like it is
Our need is not to kill these scum
Hearing that strange fizz
As our ears are hacked off one by one
By a matador who feels
It’s right to be this ugly
It senselessly reveals
So much for us, us dying bulls
So much we want to say
We just want to be given
A place to fade away
Not in that vile arena
With screaming crowds who be
Knocking back the sangria
Into infinity
We beg you will you listen
As Our souls depart
Don’t give them what they fucking want
A dead bull on a cart
Where rotten flies come winging
Boycott this whole affair
Write to the authorities
And tell them that you share
The revulsion of this culture
You are sickened
By it all
Seeing young bulls slaughtered
The pageant is so cruel
It’s a loathing it’s repugnant
It’s where cretins come to gloat
It’s so evil it’s so ghastly
Made to watch our brothers bloat