El mucho grando matador
El toreador, all girls adore
They can see mystery in his eyes
No sign of fear, shows no surprise
Into the bullring he has come
The crowd applause his sense of fun
The roses fly into the air
It is the sign the bull is there

The bull begins to come to the ring
To one man stands and signs
He twist his cape and draws his mighty sword
The blade flashes, the crowd just roars

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