Los Toros
Ya comienza el circo,
Sale el espadachin,
Con traje de colores,
Y gorro de guardia civil.
No sabe que le espera,
Al toro en el redil,
Cuando salga a la plaza,
Sufrira hasta morir.
La gente impaciente,
Morbo y frenesi,
Quieren que corra sangre,
Que sufra hasta morir.
Por que al fn y al cabo,
Se atreven a decir,
La fiesta nacional,
Siempre ha sido asi.
Agonia y sufrimiento,
Sin rencor ni sentimiento,
Y el toro muere por dinero,
Y hay, quien paga por verlo.
Con una capa roja,
Llaman su atencion,
Y le clavan banderillas,
Y eso no es lo peor.
Dicen que no sufre,
Que no siente el dolor,
Y le clavan una espada,
Directa al corazon.
Fin de la corrida,
Aplausos, ovacion,
Los pañuelos blancos,
Piden recompensacion.
Por la puerta grande,
Sale el torero,
Mientras en la plaza,
Otro toro ha muerto.
Agonia y sufrimiento,
Sin rencor ni sentimiento,
Y el toro muere por dinero,
Y hay, quien paga por verlo.
The Bulls
The circus begins now,
The swordsman comes out,
In colorful attire,
And a civil guard hat.
He doesn't know what awaits him,
The bull in the pen,
When he enters the arena,
He will suffer until death.
The impatient people,
Morbid and frenzied,
Want to see blood run,
Want it to suffer until death.
Because in the end,
They dare to say,
The national celebration,
Has always been like this.
Agony and suffering,
Without resentment or feeling,
And the bull dies for money,
And there are those who pay to see it.
With a red cape,
They catch his attention,
And they stick banderillas,
And that's not the worst.
They say he doesn't suffer,
That he doesn't feel pain,
And they stick a sword,
Straight to the heart.
End of the bullfight,
Applause, ovation,
The white handkerchiefs,
Demand compensation.
Through the main gate,
The bullfighter exits,
While in the arena,
Another bull has died.
Agony and suffering,
Without resentment or feeling,
And the bull dies for money,
And there are those who pay to see it.