Matador by Bronx
In his prime, he took his time
His suit of lights worn proudly
But that was then and this now
His body moves so sadly
The thought of running never crossed his mind
He feels the death of any other kind
Now the devil takes his horns out
And the shadows in the crowd shout
He was born to bleed
The hero's pride stretches far and wide
As if the earth was empty
His holy ghost carries coast to coast
As if his body's buried
The thought of running never crossed his mind
He feels the death of any other kind
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