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 [bad word] The crowd applause his sense of fun
The roses fly into the air
It is the sign the bull is there

The bull begins [bad word] 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