Marc Almond şarkı sözleri

On Sundays the bulls get so bored When they're asked to show off for us There is the sun, the sand, and the arena There are the bulls ready to bleed for us It's time when grocery clerks Become Don Juan And all the ugly girls Turn into swans Who can say what he's found That bull who turns and paws the ground And suddenly he sees himself all nude Who can say what he dreams That bull who hears the silent screams From the open mouths of multitudes On Sundays the bulls get so bored When they're asked to suffer for us There are the picadors and the mobs revenge There are the toreros and the mob's revenge, there are the toreros - and the mob kneels for us

Sanatçının Fotoğrafı

Marc Almond

Albüm Görseli

Jacques